


Drama Queen

by Bananaramses



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Emotional, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humanstuck, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-06
Updated: 2012-06-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 00:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 92,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bananaramses/pseuds/Bananaramses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cue up a summer night with a strife between one astonishingly drunk foster father and one teenage boy who can’t keep his mouth shut and the resulting cliché pushes said boy to be as dramatically angst ridden as a fourteen year old girl who no one understands. Includes meeting an online acquaintance with charming buckteeth, copious use of the phrase ‘no homo’, body image issues, shenanigans and feelings. In short, Karl Vantas is reigning over the drama as self-proclaimed monarch for life and John Egbert is not helping the situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Karl Vantas Is the Drama Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: this story does touch on child abuse, mentions of bullying, a negative experience going through the foster care system, as well as Karkat's usual levels self-hatred.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] opened memo on board FUCKING IMPORTANT --

CG: EVERY ONE OF YOU ASSHATS DIRECT YOUR ATTENTION HERE IMMEDIATELY. I KNOW IT CAN BE PRETTY DIFFICULT TO FOCUS ON SOMETHING OTHER THAN YOUR OWN VASTLY INTERESTING EXCEPT THE EXACT OPPOSITE LIVES BUT JUST HUMOUR ME FOR TWO MINUTES HERE. THAT MEANS STOP WATCHING PORNOGRAPHY YOU LONELY VIRGINS, I’M SURE YOUR ACHING ERECTIONS AND EVER MOUNTING SHAME WILL STILL BE WAITING FOR YOU WHEN I’M DONE.  
CG: NOW, BEFORE ANY OF YOU LOSE YOUR SHIT OVER WHAT I’M ABOUT TO ASK, AS IT IS A RULE INSTATED BY NONE OTHER THAN ME, AND STILL MAKES SENSE SINCE I’M CERTAIN AT LEAST ONE OF YOU IS A POTENTIAL RAPIST, MAY I POINT OUT THE MEMO TITLE FOR ANY OF YOU WHO AREN’T PAYING ANY FUCKING ATTENTION: IT’S FUCKING IMPORTANT.

\-- twinArmageddons  [TA] responded to memo --

TA: 2hiit, get two the poiint.  
CG: OH, I'M SO SORRY FOR TAKING UP SO MUCH OF YOUR PRECIOUS TIME, CAPTOR. EXCEPT THAT WAS SARCASM AND YOU CAN JUST STOP READING THIS AT ANY TIME. BE HONEST, YOU’RE LIKE THOSE PEOPLE WHO STAND AROUND WATCHING A TEN CAR PILE UP AND, INSTEAD OF DOING ANYTHING TO HELP, YOU JUST RECORD IT ON YOUR PHONE OR FACEBOOK STATUS THE CARNAGE. I AM THE CRASH AND YOU’RE JUST BEING AN IMPATIENT PRICK, WANTING TO GET YOUR ROCKS OFF AT THE SIGHT OF SOME BLOOD.  
CG: SO LEAVE. I’M FULLY EXPLAINING SOME THINGS HERE SO CERTAIN MORONS WON’T START FLIPPING THE FUCK OUT LIKE “BUT YOU SAID NO REAL LIFE STUFF ONLINE BLAH BLAH BLAH” EVEN THOUGH APPARENTLY WE PRETTY MUCH THREW THAT OUT THE WINDOW SINCE IT TOOK ALL OF TEN MINUTES FOR EVERYONE TO KNOW EVERYONE ELSE’S FULL NAMES. JUST HANDING THEM OUT LIKE IT WAS GOING OUT OF STYLE. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE? HOW IS IT POSSIBLE THAT SO MANY BABIES WERE DROPPED ON THEIR HEADS BY THEIR NEGLIGENT CARE GIVERS?  
CG: SERIOUSLY, DO YOU FUCKING WANT STALKERS? DO YOU WANT PEOPLE LIKE ERIC FLIRTING WITH YOU FOR REAL? SINGING LOVE BALLADS AT YOUR WINDOW EVERY NIGHT, WRITING NOTES IN HIS OWN TEARS AND SLIPPING THEM UNDER YOUR PILLOW WHILE YOU SLEEP? NO. IT’S STUPID.  
TA: ii2 there EVEN a poiint two any of thii2?  
TA: or ii2 thii2 another memo of you arguiing wiith your2elf?  
CG: I WILL BAN YOU, SO HELP ME CAPTOR.  
TA: ii am 2hakiing iin my boot2. ii’d hate to mii22 out on thii2 amaziing memo.  
TA: iit’2 not at all liike any of the other2.

\-- [CG] banned [TA] from responding to memo --

\-- caligulasAquarium [CA] responded to memo --

CA: i wwouldn do that kar  
CA: wwhy wwould you say that  
CG: IT WAS JUST AN EXAMPLE. LET IT BE KNOWN THAT I, FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY FANTASTIC LIFE, REGRET SAYING SOMETHING. I’M AN IDIOT. ETC. ETC. BUT I KIND OF DO NEED TO GET TO THE POINT HERE.  
CG: FUCK I’M RUNNING OUT OF BATTERY.  
CG: SO THIS IS PRETTY CONTRARY TO MY BELIEFS ON AN EPIC SCALE BUT I’M GOING TO MAKE A BIGGER ASS OUT OF MYSELF HERE THAN I USUALLY DO ANYWAYS, JUST PUTTING THAT ON THE TABLE WHERE EVERYONE CAN SEE IT. AND I NEED ANSWERS HERE.  
CG: WHERE DO YOU ASSHOLES LIVE?

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] responded to memo --

TG: a/s/l  
TG: are you lonely tonight vantas  
TG: where doing this man  
TG: where making this happen

\-- [CG] banned [TG] from responding to memo --

CG: STOPPING THAT HEADACHE BEFORE IT EVEN HAS A CHANCE TO STEAMROLL MY BRAIN INTO A FINE PASTE, BACK UP AND REPEAT UNTIL IT CAN BE USED TO PAINT HIPSTER IRONIC BULLSHIT ACROSS THE SERIES OF TUBES THAT MAKE UP THE INTERNET. EVEN IF STRIDER WAS MY ONLY OPTION I’D TAKE MY CHANCES HERE.  
CG: OKAY. GETTING OFF TOPIC.  
CG: IT’S NOT SO MUCH WHERE YOU ALL LIVE THAT I WANT TO KNOW, IT’S IF ANY OF YOU ARE WITHIN REASONABLE TRAVELLING DISTANCE OF ME. LIKE, IN THE SAME CITY. FUCK, EVEN THE SAME STATE OR SIDE OF THE COUNTRY, I DON’T CARE SO LONG AS I CAN THEORETICALLY GET THERE AND OUT OF HERE.  
CG: IT’S JUST, YOU’RE THE ONLY PEOPLE IN MY LIFE WHO AREN’T TRYING TO FUCK THINGS UP EVEN MORE THAN THEY ALREADY ARE. WELL, SOME OF YOU ARE TRYING TO FUCK THINGS UP BUT NOT AS BADLY, SO THE LESSER OF TWO EVILS IS BASICALLY WHAT I’M HOPING FOR. WHICH IS PRETTY SAD IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT. I’VE NEVER EVEN MET ANY OF YOU AND YOU’RE ALREADY BETTER THAN THE ASSHOLES I HAVE TO PUT UP WITH, MYSELF INCLUDED.

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] responded to memo --

GC: 4R3 YOU OK?  
CG: WOW. GIVE THIS WOMAN A METAL. NO, I’M NOT O FUCKING KAY. I DON’T KNOW IF ANY OF YOU HAVE CLUED IN BY NOW, BUT I’M THE DEFINITION FOR “MISERABLE EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN BEING” AND LIFE LIKES TO RAIN ALL THE SHIT DOWN ON PEOPLE LIKE ME. ALL OF IT.  
GC: W3LL YOU’R3 NOT R34LLY EXPL41NG TH1S V3RY W3LL >:[

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] responded to memo --

EB: karl, i just got on and you’re kind of freaking me out here. what’s going on?  
EB: ...  
CG: YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON? WANT TO HEAR A DAY IN THE LIFE OF THE GREATEST FUCK-UP IN THE WORLD, COMMONLY KNOWN AS KARL VANTAS? I’M CURRENTLY SITTING IN A DIRTY ALLEYWAY BESIDE A DUMPSTER, TEN BLOCKS FROM MY JERK-OFF FOSTER DAD’S COZY PIECE OF SHIT APARTMENT, STEALING WIFI FROM SOME PERSON WHO DIDN’T SET A PASSWORD ON THE SIDE OF TOWN WHERE PEOPLE STEALING IS LIKE PEOPLE FUCKING BREATHING, HOPING THAT THE HOMELESS GUY GIVING ME THE STANK EYE ACROSS THE STREET DOESN’T LIKE TO PICK FIGHTS WITH KIDS THAT HAVE A BLACK EYE AND WHAT FEELS LIKE A BROKEN ARM. I’M PRETTY SURE HE DOES.  
CG: IN CASE YOU DIDN’T CATCH THAT, I’M A HOT MESS MINUS ALL OF THE SEX APPEAL AND HAVE NOWHERE TO GO EXCEPT FOR MAYBE INSIDE THIS DUMPSTER WHERE I SURELY BELONG. THAT WAS MY LAST HOUR. NOW TELL ME ABOUT YOUR DAY.

\-- [GC] unbanned [TA] from responding to memo --  
\-- [GC] unbanned [TG] from responding to memo --

EB: are you serious?  
CG: WHY WOULD I LIE ABOUT SOMETHING LIKE THIS? JESUS, EGBERT, YOU’RE A FUCKING IDIOT.   
TA: 2hiit, KL. je2u2 chrii2t.   
EB: you should go to the hospital!  
TG: fuck  
GC: 4ND TH3 POL1C3!   
CG: THAT WOULD BE GREAT EXCEPT, LET’S JUST ADD SOME MELODRAMA HERE, NO ONE CARES. THIS ISN’T THE FIRST TIME THIS HAS HAPPENED. IT’S NOT EVEN THE WORST. I’M NOT QUITE OLD ENOUGH TO GET OUT OF THE FOSTER PROGRAM DUE TO ME BEING A MORON AND MESSING SHIT UP SO I HAVE TO STAY IN IT UNTIL I’M EIGHTEEN, SO I’D JUST END UP GETTING PASSED OFF TO SOMEONE NEW. WITH MY LUCK, IT WILL BE ANOTHER ALCOHOLIC WITH A HARD ON FOR BEATING KIDS. HOW PEOPLE LIKE THAT ARE EVEN DEEMED SUITABLE PARENTS IS BEYOND ME. I’M JUST DONE WITH IT. I KNOW YOU GUYS WOULD GET THE SHITTY END OF THE DEAL, BUT I DON’T THINK I CAN DO IT AGAIN.  
CG: I COULD JUST  
CG: just  
CG: use some help here please  
CA: kar i livve in wwilliamsberg brooklyn  
CA: fif is here too  
GC: 1 L1V3 1N 4R1ZON4  
GC: 4NYWH3R3 SOUTH 1 W1LL DR1V3 4 C4R FOR YOU  
GC: TH4T 1S BOTH D4NG3ROUS AND 4G41N3T THE L4W  
CA: but if you livve anywwhere near the east coast and evven if you don’t  
CA: i can be there  
TA: you are an a22hole. why would you block me when thii2 ii2 fuckiing 2eriiou2? iif you’re iin caliiforniia ii’m gettiing you now.  
TG: houston texas  
EB: i’m close to seattle in washington state. i’m not sure if rose or jade could help, they’re pretty far off the grid and don’t have cars. jade’s on an island, actually. seriously karl, you should have told us sooner.  
EB: hey are you still there, karl????????  
CG: SORRY. I WAS KIND OF JUST STARING AT THE SCREEN FOR A SECOND. TO BE HONEST I’M A LITTLE BIT SHOCKED BY THIS. I MEAN, WITH HOW THINGS USUALLY GO, I DIDN’T ACTUALLY THINK I’D BE CLOSE TO ANYONE.  
CG: EGBERT. I’M IN TACOMA.  
EB: um, wow. that’s really close.  
TA: go get hiim now, JN.  
EB: i’m going! jeeze. i can be there in less than half an hour. actually, i’m going to drive really fast.  
GC: 1 W1LL 4CC3PT TH4T TH1S T1M3 >:O  
EB: i’m going to give you my phone number in private um, if you have a phone? you can tell me where exactly you are.  
CG: YEAH. OKAY.  
CG: THANKS EVERYONE.  
CG: I MEAN IT.  
CG: I THINK THE ONE GOOD THING I HAVE GOING FOR ME IS THAT I KNOW ALL OF YOU.  
GC: <3  
EB: stop memoing and start texting. also you’re getting such a brohug when i get you.  
TA: aw KL aw.  
CG: THAT WAS THE SAPPIEST THING OH GOD. I CAN’T BELIEVE I JUST TYPED THAT. FUCK. I’M CLOSING THIS NOW SO I CAN JUST PRETEND IT DIDN’T HAPPEN.  
GC: 1 PR1NTED 1T 4 HUNDR3D T1M3S 1T’S GO1NG TO B3 MY N3W W4LLP4P3R >;]  
CG: SHUT UP.

\-- [CG] closed memo --

It was cold for summer. A gentle, chilled breeze rolled in from the North, which made wearing only a thin outer layer not the brightest of ideas. Not that there had been much time to grab much of anything, between all the yelling and hitting and storming out. Karl Vantas huddled in the dimly lit alley and attempted to draw further in on himself, a warm laptop cradled close to his chest. After the embarrassingly revealing memo – which he was seriously regretted writing, since he pretty much made the biggest ass out of himself while literally begging for help – and sorting things out with John, he patiently waited for the buzz from the archaic cell phone nestled in his pocket.

He was going to meet John Egbert, face to face. John, who was a derpy nerd who knew how to frustrate him to no end, but who was also positive insisted that they were best bros or some variant of that sentiment at least once per Pesterlog. John was okay, really okay actually, if any real honesty was applied to that personal impression. Because of John, Karl was maybe going to be okay too – he had a hard time believing that luck was actually going to be on his side for once.

A car crawled down the dimly lit road after twenty long minutes, suspiciously pulling to a near stop at the opening between each set of buildings. A few vehicles passed it by with quick honks of irritation before they speed into the night towards whatever important destination they needed to get to. Karl’s attention was zoned in on the car as he shifted his laptop nervously against his body, waiting in anxious anticipation to see if the driver would be someone that could save him. He watched cautiously from around a brick wall as the car stumbled along, his brows knit together as he tried to make out the figure behind the wheel from over a block away. Not that he knew what exactly he was looking for. He had never seen John Egbert, though he had a basic idea of noticeable characteristics from various conversations over the past years of begrudging friendship: thick glasses for bad eyesight, bucked teeth and a bit of an overbite, and more height than anyone rightfully should be entitled to without playing some kind of sport.

His phone buzzed noisily. He jumped, feeling like an idiot for the hundredth time that day as he shifted his laptop onto his knees to fish out his phone. Once he had wasted a ridiculous amount of time trying to coordinate his electronics, Karl was able to scan the text:

_okay where are you?_

Karl looked back to the car again. It has pulled up to the curb on his side of the street, headlights on but the engine now off. The silhouette of the driver was fiddling with something in his lap. Biting his lip thoughtfully, Karl stepped out of the alleyway and walked towards the car. The driver looked up quickly in his direction, then swiftly back down to his lap. Another text alert buzzed insistently. Oh god, it was actually happening.

_oh, that’s you right? uh, i hope. he he he_

Okay, so it was obviously Egbert. Karl flipped him the bird when he looked up again. Buzz.

_so you._

The passenger side door opened long before he was even within reach of the car. Karl rolled his eyes but quickened his pace, heart pounding wildly in his chest. He could feel the blush flaring on his cheeks, the nervous desire to see the man behind the blue text and stupid screen name twisting his stomach into knots. What he had expected was the clichéd definition of a nerd, who was all kinds of limbs with little to no social sense.

“Hi, Karl!” What he got was a raven haired teenager with the most charming smile he had ever seen outside of the movies. Maybe including the movies if only because John was right in front of him, grinning like an idiot. Buck teeth front and center.

“Hi, idiot,” Karl grumbled, ducking his head and slipping into the leather seat. He closed the door and locked it with purpose – he hadn't been kidding about the homeless population or the high concentration of thefts in the area. A short bubble of laughter replaced the irritating ‘he he he’s Karl associated with Egbert. He found that the real giggling was much more tolerable than it rightfully should have been: deep and melodious and just so perfectly John that the sound could define him.

“Wow. You look totally different than how I pictured you!” He drew his black rimmed glasses down and craned his neck, trying to get a better look at Karl’s face. He evidently wasn’t the only one who had imagined someone different. After a minute of John struggling, Karl sighed and turned only to have his eyes meeting the bluest blue since the fucking heavens happened. After a momentary lapse where his brain short-circuited over the sheer impossibility of what he was seeing, Karl decided that they had to be coloured contacts. There was just no way someone was allowed to have eyes like that naturally. Except this was Egbert so _of course_ those were his eyes. It was dark but Karl could still see how fucking _blue_ they were. “You’re kind of short and not really all that angry looking and stuff.” John laughed again, though this time more of a soft chuckle – the annoying, repetitive online laughter did no justice to the real thing at all. John’s eyes suddenly lit up, a curious expression rapidly painted on his face. He slowly lifted a hand, reached out, and tugged back the dark hood Karl had drawn over his head. “Oh gosh. Are you an albino?”

“Is that a fucking problem?” Karl snarled, used to the gawking when people took in the practically white hair and freakish red eyes that he had been so graciously been bestowed. John's smile was back though, a hand patting the top of his head gently.

“No, it’s just, so is Dave. That’s hilarious, since you’re both my best pals.” The grin melted into a frown, followed by a furrow of brows as overly large teeth worried at his bottom lips. Goddamn, was John ever expressive. “Um, your arm?”

“Hurts,” Karl replied shortly, casting a quick look down at his left arm. It had since stopped throbbing and had entered into the stage of being an irritating, dull but constant pain. He flexed his fingers carefully, cringing openly from jolt brought on by the movement; he was just full of poor decisions lately. “I might have overreacted a little in the heat of the moment during that little heart-wrenching memo of mine. I think it’s just a hairline fracture. That’s what it feels like, anyways. Can we get fuck out of here?”

John stared at him a good minute before his lips tugged into a forced smile.

“Oh, okay.” He turned his keys in the ignition, engine springing back to life. Karl appreciated the heater blowing hot air directly at his face as he could at least argue that it was partially to blame for his blush. John turned to look at him again, that first charming, devastating grin reappearing. The seat squeaked in protest as Karl shuffled back into it, feeling more self-conscious than usual with how John was opening staring at him. “I can’t believe I’m meeting you! I wish the circumstances could have been less... you know. But, um, it’s really nice to meet you, Karl!”

“Yeah,” was all Karl could muster in response. If John knew him well enough, he would know that the sentiment was reciprocated. The grin didn't falter regardless, so Karl figured that John had actually picked up on a thing or two about his personality from their many years of chatting.

“Okay, so, I’m going to need to explain this to my dad.” Now that, that was something Karl should have expected. This was, after all, still John Egbert, just now with ridiculous blue eyes and a movie star smile.

“Wait. Wait a fucking second, Egbert. You mean to tell me you didn’t even inquire if you could temporarily adopt some strange man for an undetermined length of time – one who you met from movie chatrooms and played a terrible game with once – who you hadn’t even seen or spoken to in real life? What if I turned out to be some forty year old, serial killer mastermind, leading all of you assholes into a false sense of security before dangling that memo out in front of you and waiting for the one dumb enough to actually buy it? Except everyone seems all aboard the gullible train on a one way trip to Derp Town, where you’ve already been sworn in as mayor for a fifth consecutive term. You didn’t even say where you were going, did you? This could have been really fucking dangerous!” When Karl was finished, winded slightly from the speed in which he had delivered the words, John side-eyed him carefully. Out of literally nowhere, he was laughing and just would not stop laughing. Karl had really missed the joke but apparently it was funny enough that John had to pull over because he couldn’t concentrate on the road while being a fucking moron, apparently. When the last of the giggles bubbled out and he wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye, John pulled back onto the road.

“You totally rant the same as you do online. I was kind of not at all expecting it. So, okay, one, I really don’t think some serial killer would have gone on for years about shitty romcoms as avidly as you do. If one did, I’d probably applaud their extreme dedication before spreading my arms wide so that they could stabbed me or whatever.” Karl glared pointedly, twisting to make a quick jab at John with his good arm. “Ow, hey! Not nice, Karl.”

“Romantic comedies are under-appreciated works of art, you uncultured fuck. You’d get that if you cared to watch movies that weren’t complete and utter abortions of cinematography. Not even the clinically safe abortions done by doctors in sterile white buildings that have religious activist protesting constantly outside. No, your movies are the abysmal coat hanger abortions done in dirty gas stations by teenage girls who were just looking for a good time and oh, he pulled out so how could they possibly get pregnant, that show up on the local news as some shock story between sports and the weather. Those are your movies. Gas station trashcan babies.”

“Okay no, gross, Karl. Also, you said some of my movies were pretty alright.” John actually had the nerve to pout after he finished speaking. A nearly full grown man _pouting_ like a five year old girl who had just dropped her ice cream cone and was expecting some sort of condolences. It was the most stupid thing.

“I lied.” John very lightly knocked Karl’s shoulder, little more than a brush of knuckles against fabric.

“You did not. That’s unacceptable. We’re going to watch all the movies. All of them.” Karl examined John’s profile until the other boy tilted his head, smirking confidently. The area around his feet became very riveting and not at all because he could feel more than just hot air heating his face.

“We’re not watching Con Air,” Karl conceded with a huff and crossed his arms with just the slightest flinch. Watching movies together with John wasn’t exactly the worst thing in the world to do.

“We’re watching Con Air until you love it like I love it—that is a whole pile of love right there—and that’s final. We’re having a Nic Cage-athon. That is the first thing we’re going to do together beyond this car ride.”

“I’m throwing myself out right now,” Karl stated, completely deadpan and he unlocked the door and motioned to undo his seat-belt. When he made for the handle, John tugged at the shoulder of Karl’s hoodie as if that would be enough force to keep him inside the moving vehicle.

“Dumb. Two. I told my dad I was picking up a friend and bringing them home, just not the circumstances. I didn’t really have much time what with Soll freaking out that I need to get to you, sending me like, a hundred texts as soon as I signed off. I’m almost positive I never gave him my phone number. Seriously dude, you need to talk to him. And everyone. Let them know you’re okay.” He shifting uncomfortably with the thought of worrying all of his friends. For as much grief as he gave them all sometimes, Karl really didn’t want to make any of them upset. He bit down on his bottom lip out of habit and he drew a sharp breath. It had apparently been split sometime during the scuffle and was bleeding into his mouth thanks to his sudden abuse.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll have to do that once we get to your place.” John silently handed him his smart phone, Pesterchum already up and running. Apparently he was doing it then and there. It was probably for the best, since at least he wouldn't be able to stress over what he could possible say following his hideously mass memo. Karl typed a quick message of reassurance that John had picked him up so they could stop bawling their eyes out and pulling their hair in worry over, then held the phone back out without waiting to see any replies. John pocketed it before continuing.

“Three! You’re totally – what does Teri always call you again, oh! – adorabloodthirsty. Online you always are screaming and swearing, but underneath all that you really care. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have put up with Eric’s romance issues for years, or have convinced Gadi to check himself into rehab, or have stayed up with me all night when my dad was in the hospital and tried to calm me down. You are really cute, in a yell-y kind of way, and that’s part of the reason why we all trust you.” Karl’s cheeks were positively and undoubtedly burning at that point. No one had ever said anything like that about him let alone right to his face. He turned sharply to looked out at the passing cityscape, chin propped up on his right hand. He hoped John wasn’t paying enough attention to notice how red his ears were turning.

“You did not just call me cute,” he mumbled darkly, trying to make it sound as much like a threat as he knew he could. John just laughed again, happy and carefree and _god_ this whole thing might turn out to be an extraordinarily bad idea. A hand once again touched the top of his head, brushing through the mess of white in quick movements that probably left it looking like a tornado just hit. He turned back to John and glared venomously – the look that had made kids cry and dogs bark at him – and met soft eyes as vast and unclouded as the summer sky.

“You’re way cute, Karl. Pretty sure we’re going to have to get some kind of photo sharing happening with the rest of everyone, since I can’t keep all this cute to myself. It’s totally not fair.” John pinched his cheek for good measure, Karl instinctively moving to swat away the hand but hissed in pain and recoiled half way through the action. There was a quick apologize accompanied by a nervous chewing of lip; Karl groan in frustration.

“I look like a car ran me over, haven’t slept in three fucking days, and could desperately invest in some personal hygiene care immediately. How is any of this cute to you?” John made a sound of disapproval, then another and another. Karl twisted to punch him again.

“Hey! No hitting, jeeze. You’re supposed to be all bark and no bite and are kind of ruining that with all the violence. Also, I call ‘em like I see ‘em.” Karl snorted, resting his head against the seat.

“You’re almost blind and your night vision is, as you have mentioned time and time again, the worst thing ever. Which works out for me since you won’t kick me out for being an ugly son of a bitch after taking me all the way to your house because you’re John fucking nice guy Egbert. Prepare yourself for the sheer horror that is my face and try not to cry.”

“Bleh. I can see you fine.” They sat in silence for a good ten seconds before John decided he was the worst at the quiet game. “Are you hungry?”

“Fuck yes.” John laughed at the eager response but if he hadn’t eaten much of anything in the past couple days he’d want whatever food could be shoved in his mouth too. With a moment’s hesitation he flicked on the radio as they set their sights for what was undoubtedly going to be a fast food drive through. An all too familiar song starting up in a techno beat and Karl carefully watched the other to see how he’d react. This was a critical moment in their potential friendship building exercise; this could very well make or break things. But John just bashfully nudged the volume up a few points. Then a couple more.

“Lady Gaga,” John explained simply, shrugging his shoulders.

“Egbert, if you do not crank Poker Face to the full capacity of your stereo system I will end you.”


	2. In Which John Egbert Has Missed the Memo on Sorting Priorities

John Egbert had always felt awesome after belting out some songs whilst driving and this night he discovered it was even more awesome when his online-now-real-fleshy-pal Karl was singing, way too seriously, right there with him. It wasn't before long that they made a pit-stop to make quick work of some greasy, but most importantly cheap, but most importantly delicious, hamburgers. After most likely setting a record for how fast a pair of teenagers could scarf down burgers, John made a spontaneously awesome decision to stop by at the gas station closest to his house. If they were going to watch movies together, they were going to need an arsenal of unhealthy snacks and beverages at their disposal. Karl loaded up on an armful of cheese coated puff and chip type items while John went for the biggest bag of the sweetest candy he could get his hands on. Both made the decision to get what had to be the most unnaturally coloured slushies known to man – it was going to be _awesome_. They were back on the road for all of two minutes.

When they made it through the front door with more junk-food than they could possibly handle, John decided to really take a good look at his friend for the first time since, truth be told, his eyesight was really not good in the dark. He probably shouldn’t have driven at all, but any danger was readily waved for an emergency rescue of a crabby friend. So he gave Karl the once over, up and down, as they dumped their junk food off in the kitchen. John really didn’t get what Karl was basing the ‘sheer horror’ of his appearance off of. In many ways Karl was really kind of very pretty: full lips that were perfectly pouty when he wasn’t scowling, skin delicately pale that was dusted a soft pink around his cheeks, long white lashes drawing over really unique red, and white hair swept up in a kind of mess of choppy layers that stuck out around his head. To top it all off, Karl was adorably average male height, which was quite a few inches shorter than John. He guessed most guys didn’t really want to be called pretty though, but his friend was still a far cry away from being an ‘ugly son of a bitch’ as he so viciously described himself, even with the darkening bruise surrounding his eye and angry cut splitting his lip.

“Welcome home, son. Who might this young man be?” His dad appeared around a corner just as Karl took a large sip of his blue and purple slushie. A spluttering and short coughing fit made John kind of proud of the seemingly natural prank, though Karl had gone through a lot so it was not as funny as it would have been under normal circumstances. John gave it four and a half out of ten. Not your best work, old man.

“Hey dad, um, this is Karl.” Right, this would be the part where John had to explain everything. An eyebrow quirked at the mention of the obviously familiar name but his dad was obviously waiting for him to explain his reason for inviting a 'stranger' into their house. He just knew his dad could go on and on about the dangers of meeting people online, even if the one he did meet was a friend he had known for years. But his dad worried about his safety: before John was allowed to send stuff like birthday gifts to his closest penpals, his dad had insisted on talking to them himself, getting their contact information, and doing a quick internet background check. So embarrassing! 

“Before you say anything, yes, this is online Karl who I’ve mentioned before; the one who didn’t want us to talk about real life stuff on the internet at all. You thought that was a good idea, right? Sorry for not saying anything before when I left, but I knew you’d want me to explain and I needed to get him asap. Okay, so, he needs to stay here for a while because um...” Karl stepped forward, head ducked low with an unfamiliar vulnerability that John never before thought to associate with walls of grey, all-caps text.

“I’m sorry for doing this, Mr. Egbert, but I just can’t go back there right now.” The word that followed was a whisper, heart wrenching in its desperation. “Please.” John automatically reached out, shifting beside Karl to pull him into an awkward sort of manly half hug. His friend leaned against his side slightly, a shuttering sigh drawing from his lips. In the short car ride, between the singing and food and more food, John had forgotten how broken his pal’s life really could be. _God_. He should have been paying better attention instead of planning the order of movies that he wanted them to watch that night. If his dad said no to this he’d fight for Karl with every last breath in his body. Friends stand up for their friends.

“Can you tell me what happened?” John’s dad asked softly, non intrusive and careful. There was unspoken emphasis that Karl did not have to say anything he didn’t want to and that he didn’t need to explain if he wasn’t ready. Karl stiffened, looking up sharply with narrowed eyes.

“Well obviously I fell into a fist with my face and then decided to grab the asshole’s leg and just went to town on the rest of me. I also took that opportunity to break a shitty table by falling into it with my now maybe fractured arm, but that poor excuse for furniture looks way worse than me, and that’s saying something. Just another sunshine and roses kind of day where nothing bad ever happens except everything bad happens forever and it happens to me, though I probably deserve it for being an insufferable smudge on the planet.” He paused, making a scrunched up face as his brain probably just caught up and registered what had come out of his mouth. Karl groaned in frustration, giving himself a facepalm for good measure. John, arm still slung around him in their hug thing, gave his shoulder a good squeeze of reassurance. His dad would probably be almost as worried as he was with how negatively Karl was viewing himself.

“It’s okay,” John said and, woah, he was kind of really close to Karl’s ear! When had that happened? He backed off a bit, not breaking his hold because that might make Karl think that he had done something wrong when he hadn’t at all.

“Sorry. I do that. It’s a thing I do and I immediately regret saying all that. I... It’s just hard to talk about things like this. To do with my life, I mean. Foster dad and alcohol aren’t the best combination and throw me in the middle just gets...” He trailed off, because they could clearly see what that equaled.

“Dad, please.” John spoke firmly; he wasn’t really asking. Even if his dad said no for whatever reason, he’d be leading Karl up to his room the next minute. John was sure that if there was anytime to pull out a fit of teenage rebellion it was to help someone close to him.

“Of course, son. Any friend of yours is welcome in this house.” The biggest grin in John’s repertoire was already well on its way to making his cheeks hurt. “However I believe it would be for the best if I take Karl to the emergency room in order to assess the damages done.” Trust his dad to make the most sense. Really, John should have done that instead of focusing on getting junk food. They were called priorities and he really needed to get his straightened out. Hospital first, then movies. “Karl, have you contacted anyone regarding this matter?”

“You don’t have to take me to the hospital and no, not yet. I panicked and just wanted to get out of there as fast as I could.” John’s dad took a step forward, reaching out slowly as if he were approaching a wild animal. Karl flinched before the hand patted his head twice. John realized that his friend had thought his dad could hit him. Because that what his foster dad would have done. That was so awful that it made John want to cry. He settled with half bro-hugging the heck out of the boy.

“I insist that we go. You said your arm was injured quite severely.” Karl shifted uncomfortably from side to side.

“Can I... take a shower first? God, that is really ungrateful to ask. First thing I do after practically forcing my dramatically repugnant self into someone’s house is want to get all up in their bathroom. Ignore me forever, if you don’t mind, I’ll just be over here being an insensitive asshole about everything.” John turned him by the shoulders and met red eyes which defiantly glared up as if challenging him to say he wasn’t a complete failure or whatever Karl thought he was. Jeeze.

“Dude, stop that. It’s this way.” John started to lead Karl out of the kitchen, pausing at the doorway. He looked back to his father, standing there, the image of the perfect business man. John nodded his head. “Thanks, dad.”

“I’m proud of you, son.”

 

Karl had insisted that he didn’t need any help wrestling out of his clothes even when it was totally not even homo to help out a friend with a maybe broken arm. After a quickly thrown together change of clothes and a towel were provided, the bathroom door was practically slammed shut. Following a few short cusses, the spray of water filled the air along with what sounded like quiet humming. Actually, it was definitely humming. Not that John was waiting outside listening. The bathroom just happened to be right next to his room so he couldn’t stop hearing it even if he wanted. The song clicked in his head as being poppy and so like the Karl he knew from online: _Love You Like a Love Song_. He laughed, reminding himself to tell everyone whenever he went online next.

Stretching out on his bed and somewhat occupied with waiting, John absently wondered how exactly Karl had managed to type at his usual speed when he was at least keeping his injured arm tucked to his chest most of the time. Maybe he was really good at typing with one hand, or more likely he just typed regardless of his arm being hurt. Well, he was officially going to be banned from two handed typing for a while. As co-palhoncho of their online band of friends, he was allowed to do that.

John yawned loudly, adjusting himself so he wasn’t so comfortable. Pillows found their way on to the floor – that was better, in a worse way. It was well past late and quickly approaching the next day, a time when he usually was thinking about winding down on his computer for a few hours. He couldn’t imagine sleeping any time soon though and that had nothing to do with the fact that Karl had just strolled into his room wearing too long jeans and little else. Wow, his skin was almost as white as the towel slung around his shoulders. His hair, on the other hand, matched it perfectly.

“Egbert, if you’re done jizzing yourself over how fan-fucking-tastic it is to see me literally in your pants, I’d like to inform you that, due to you having just a single brain-cell floating around in that noggin of yours, you forgot to give me a shirt. I don’t think I can pull off this look unless being the colour of paste and stick thin is now a good thing.” John jumped up, laughing as he headed towards his dresser. He tried his hardest to ignore the purple marks that were kind of all over Karl's body. Once that was ignored, he also tried to ignored the fact Karl had some muscle definition on him which sort of made John jealous.

“Well, I think vampires are still kind of in.” He offered helpfully, glancing at all the t-shirts he could offer his friend. Karl in his beloved green slime ghost shirt? The camera would have to be at the ready for something as epic as that; it would just be hilarious! Karl would totally be all grumpy about it but wear it anyways because that’s just how he was. Maybe one of the ironic shirts Dave had gotten him that he really didn’t get... also would require the camera. “What should I make you wear – I mean, what would look good on you!”

“Just whatever. Fuck Egbert, seriously. I’m about ten seconds away from grabbing something out of your hamper so I can just appease your father and go to the hospital. ” After that threat, John picked out something light blue and red and pretty darn tie-dye that he didn’t know he even owned. Really, where that shirt come from? He went with Dave for now with the backup of it being a gift from Nana when she was going senile in her later years. When he turned to present Karl with his treasure of forgotten horrible clothing, he froze. Karl was inspecting his computer, back turned so John could see the dark stain bruising from the top of his ribs down past his waist. John had never seen one that big or cringe-worthy before in his life. The black eye had made him worried and the arm was still undetermined at this point but this made John upset and kind of really furious.

“Your back,” he said numbly, dropping the stupid shirt on the floor. Karl looked curiously over to John then craned his neck to look over his own shoulder.

“Yeah. That also happened. I didn’t even notice until I was getting into the shower. Just a bruise, looks worse than it actually is. It’s sore, I guess, but like that’s anything new.” Karl shrugged. Like it was no big deal. Like he wasn’t hurting. He was lying so John wouldn’t worry about it even though that couldn’t possibly be just a bruise. John clenched his fists for a moment before closing the distance between the two of them, arms wrapping around his friend’s midsection carefully. Karl jumped, making a noise in surprise at the sudden backwards embrace.

“I’m so sorry.” His friend was just short enough that he could rest his chin on top of that damp head of hair. Karl smelt like his shampoo.

“What the fuck? You didn’t do this,” Karl snapped, squirming a little in what was probably an attempt to get away. John slowly unwound himself but was surprised when the other simply turned to face him. Now John’s arms were on the small of his friend’s back and Karl was watching him pretty carefully. He wasn’t sure what exactly Karl wanted him to do, but the hug was kind of unmanly to begin with and was becoming even more so, so he let his arms drop to his sides. Neither of them moved.

“It looks so painful, Karl. Gosh, I’m going to fucking kill him. I won’t let him get away with this. He’s never going to hurt you again. I’m going to protect you.” Karl scoffed, punching John’s shoulder. “Ow.”

“Pretty sure you’re more of the toothpick to my stick. As much as it pains my ego of rage filled testosterone, I honestly don’t think we have a shot in a fight against a kitten or infant let alone a two hundred pound mass of muscle and beer gut.” He had a point. John had once gotten into a fight over a juice box in primary school and had gotten his ass royally handed to him by a seemingly fragile little girl, a year younger than he was. The way he had told it was that she was triple his size and could probably breathe fire, but he had a sneaking suspicious no one believed him. John Egbert had retired from fighting that day, as he sobbed in the principal’s office while nursing his bleeding nose.

“You’re staying here. Period. Here. I’m not ever letting you get hurt again, at least,” John promised, so sure in that moment that Karl could just start living with him and his dad. They could watch movies and play games and go to the museum to look at all the neat exhibits together. There was one coming out all about frogs that John just knew Karl would be as interested in as he was. It would be awesome to have a best friend who wasn’t just a bunch of online messages!

“I don’t think you can just up and decide to keep me. You do live with your parent, Egbert, and you graduated this year. What do you think is going to happen in a couple of months when you move out to go to school?” John had already thought it all out. When he went off to university in the fall, he could sneak Karl into his dorm room easily, as John was very sneaky and he heard that people tended to be pretty relaxed in post secondary. He had applied for a single room but if John somehow had a roommate, well, they were just going to have to learn to love the little firecracker! No one could say no to Karl for long. It was a fool proof plan.

“My dad’s going to understand, because you’re my important friend and even if he doesn’t get that, he’ll see that you need someone to be beside you and that it’s going to be me.” Karl frowned but his cheeks flared up with colour. It was kind of adorable how much he blushed. “As for university, dude, like I’d leave you here. We’ll find a way to smuggle you in, if you don’t just decide to take cinematography classes with me like you know you want to. You’re kind of stuck with me.” Karl watched John appraisingly, as if he were trying to pick apart any deception in the statement. But John kind of prided himself on being an honest person, even when that sometimes rubbed people the wrong way, and Karl soon gave in. With John, promises were always kept, his word was his word. Even if his word just seemed stupid sometimes.

“I’m going to the emergency room now –” Karl sighed, stepping to the side – _woah_ , John had kind of pinned him to the desk with that hug! – and towards the dresser.

“Okay, let me get your shirt!” John interrupted, hurrying over as his buddy retrieved the one black shirt from the dresser: one of the few Dave shirts that had a picture of three wolves howling at the moon. Oh gosh, and Karl just shrugged it on like three wolf moon wasn’t a big deal once upon a time. John quickly scanned around his room for his crappy digital camera or even his phone. Where were those when he needed them the most?

“– and you’re not coming.” The search halted.

“What? No way! I’m coming too!” Karl shook his head, before ducking it down and looking up at John with, okay, he was totally pulling puppy dog eyes! Granted, kind of peeved off puppy dog eyes, like a maybe a bulldog, but still. That was a thing John did! Karl was trying to use his own weapon against him. This would just not stand!

“The one thing I hate more in life than myself and foster dad is going to the hospital and I don’t want you to see me like how I get there. Can you please just stay here like a good boy and wait or sleep or talk to one of our many inept friends who think day is night and night is day and irony is just a state of being instead of a word that actually means something?” John’s heart sunk like a lead weight when Karl started talking – he hated himself and even though John kind of gathered as much from all the put downs it still hurt to hear it out loud – but he pressed on.

“Karl, I’m not going to just abandon you somewhere you don’t want to be.” John was going to stand firm on this one. Support would open Karl up for sure. John just had to tough out resisting the urge to just give in to what his friend asked him to do. He could be stubborn when he wanted to be.

“John, please.” But not to that voice. That hurt, soft mumble that broke him down way more than any of the rants or insults. It was a desperate, last effort for someone who always avoided asking things of people, and John knew he couldn’t make this worse. They stood there in silence for a moment, Karl occupied with looking down at his feet while John stared at the bangs clinging to his forehead. He caved big time.

“Bluh! Fine! But I’m going to worry the whole time and make a huge fuss when you come home.” Karl nodded before shuffling out of the room, long jeans covering his feet.

 

TG: hold up  
TG: lets see if i got this  
TG: vantas is a mess and you took him in for as long as you both shall live till death do you part amen you may now commence in sloppy makeouts  
EB: wow it’s not like that, dave.  
TG: rewinds this shit  
TG: were turning this back  
TG: hes a stray dog you find on the side of the street all covered in fleas and probably has the disease that starts every zombie apocalypse  
TG: but you take it home anyways because everything can be fixed with love and hope and dreams  
TG: dad hes a good dog  
TG: as he shits all over himself and your nice welcome home rug  
TG: and it might be best to get the dog put down but no one wants to mention it in front of you because you want to fix him up and take him for walkies  
TG: tell me if im getting warm here bro

John made a face at Dave’s metaphor, not impressed with the parallel of Karl and a dog needing to be put down. Two hours had passed since his dad and Karl had drove off to the hospital, leaving him to nervously await their return, alone. After making up a bed for Karl in his room – dragging a mattress out of the garage then tracking down linens and extra pillows, even though his dad would probably say Karl could stay in the guest room and make it so not fun – he decided to log on to Pesterchum to see if anyone was on. He was sure that if Dave wasn’t almost always online at any given time during the day, he would have fallen asleep. But sleep needed to calm its tits and simmer down. There was a plan and the plan was to wait up for Karl, darn it! From what he had heard and from his searches on the internet, emergency room wait times were stupid long. He was probably looking at two more hours at least, but probably quite a bit longer.

EB: wow dude, not at all! that’s pretty horrible. this is really serious. i’m not sure what i can do for him and i’m getting really nervous waiting here alone.  
TG: and thats why youre here  
TG: and not crying over him in the emergency room like you want to be doing  
TG: why are you here egbert

John bit his lip, remembering that miserable face totally like a kicked puppy – sticking to the dog comparisons, Dave would be proud if he knew – that he just couldn’t say no to. There was a desperate desire to not hurt Karl even more and he wasn’t about to go and shove himself in his face about it. They’d have plenty of time to talk it out but it was going to be hard to get a personal conversation going if Karl tried to get out of it every time. He really just wanted Karl to be fixed now instead of later, but that really wasn't how people worked.

EB: i wanted to go but karl pretty much begged me not to.  
EB: karl does the angry ranting thing but it’s even more obvious that he’s doing it to deflect or something. rose would get it right away. there’s so much more to him than what we know and he kind of attacks himself a lot.  
EB: it’s not good.  
EB: don’t tell anyone this because I think karl would be upset that i said anything more than what was in the memo.  
EB: his foster dad beat him. like, seriously beat him. he didn’t mention this bruise he has on his back which takes up pretty much half of it. when he said it wasn’t the worst time...  
EB: i want to fucking kill the guy who did that to him.  
EB: and it’s scary. that’s not me, i don’t fight people let alone have murderous thoughts.  
EB: but i do because he did that to him.  
EB: i’m so angry and i don’t know what to do.

He was the maddest he had ever been in his life, even more so than when his dad overworked himself and collapsed. He tried to ignore the sudden surge of rage building inside of him, because he honestly didn’t know what to do with it. Break something, his mind called, but there was nothing in his room that he didn’t feel attached to. Teeth clenched together, grinding as the feeling just escalated without an outlet. Karl being around distracted him before, but alone in his room with his thoughts wasn’t helping. John dug his fingers into the arms of his chair as he thought about what that man had done to his bro. Jail needed to happen. He couldn’t believe someone could just get away with beating a kid and not serve time for it. It wouldn't be right or just. John would make damn sure that man was thrown in jail for as long as possible. Teri needed to be brought up to speed on this situation, pronto. The law would not accept zero penalty for anyone who hurt her friend.

A pillow was yanked from its comfortable position on the floor and forced into being a makeshift punching bag. Or a make shift Karl’s foster dad’s face. Fuck that guy, seriously. Fuck him for making Karl hurt, fuck him for making him cry, and fuck him for making a mess of one of his best friend’s life. John had pictured meeting his friends face-to-face before and meeting Karl was always supposed to consist of defending movies while eating all the junk food. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This wasn’t fun or happy or the best day. John punched that pillow until his arms hurt. He punched it until it was a lumpy mess and no longer fluffy. The computer chimed noisily.

TG: fuck dude  
TG: you just dropped it  
TG: the most serious shit there ever was in the worlds biggest toilet  
TG: but you know and i hate to say this so zip those lips of yours and keep this under all the locks  
TG: as much as vantas pisses me off with his fourteen year old scene girl ways and 24-7 pointless bullshit  
TG: id be right there killing that asshole who did that  
TG: no one fucks with my people  
TG: even if some of my people are lunatics  
TG: you still there  
TG: are you raging out all shirt ripping leaving destruction in your wake  
TG: serious dont do anything i wouldnt do  
TG: dont do anything stupid  
TG: dont do this bro  
EB: i was punching my pillow.  
TG: of course you were that should have been my first thought  
TG: here i was admitting preemptively to being on board to commit murder and you were punching your pillow  
EB: i’m pretty sure i’m not going to go off and kill someone for real here. but if i ever met him i don’t know what i’d do. i might do something dumb, though karl says i for sure couldn’t take him. but thanks dave.  
TG: for what  
EB: for caring about him too.  
EB: oh!  
EB: he he he

The serious moment and rage suddenly gave way to the realization that he still hadn’t told Dave about Karl’s unique – but not so unique in their circle of friends – appearance. Then he thought about Karl in the wolf shirt, which was just all kinds of good right now. He giggled to himself then laughed loudly, partially because he was anticipating Dave’s reaction to the news though mostly due to being tired and overly emotional. It was pretty funny but totally not wiping his eyes funny, which was exactly what he had been reduced to doing with his arm while red text scrolled on the screen. Emotions were hard!

TG: oh hell no egbert  
TG: dont leave me hanging bro  
TG: at the edge of my seat all shivering in anticipation  
TG: and also the fuck  
TG: you were all kinds of intense and now youre giggling as usual  
TG: is it that time of the month already  
EB: karl’s albino too!  
TG: the shit he is  
TG: pics or gtfo  
EB: ugh, i kept meaning to but there wasn’t a good time between all the drama and the more drama. it was a drama sandwich with a side order of drama. i think we all need to photo share tomorrow. get your best picture ready. i will somehow snag a shot of the leader of team red.  
TG: get ready to be dazzled like a white girl to a slightly whiter sparkling adonis  
TG: tomorrow  
EB: he’s also wearing the three wolf moon shirt  
TG: what  
TG: no i cant do this  
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--

John laughed lightly to himself as Dave signed off before quickly signing right back in. He fought back another yawn unsuccessfully and rubbed his knuckles.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 02:17! --

TG: i cant even believe what you do to me  
TG: you are tearing me apart egbert  
TG: welp captors on get ready for that  
TG: talk at me after hes done mother henning it up

Soll was at him almost immediately after Dave’s warning.

\-- twinArmageddons [TA] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 02:22! -- 

TA: you two are 2tiill up? KL need two re2t, JN.   
EB: yeah i think so too! except he’s not here!    
TA: what?   
EB: he’s at the hospital right now.    
TA: WHAT??   
EB: jeeze, calm down. my dad took him because of the arm. I’m waiting for him at home since he didn’t want me to go with him.    
TA: ii2 he goiing two be okay and why aren’t you there two? 2hiit JN thii2 ii2 2eriiou2. KL ii2 an emotiional wreck at the be2t of tiime2 onliine you 2hould know that by now. you can’t just leave hiim alone when you have hiim iin real liife. iif you don’t follow hiim riight now ii 2wear ii’m driiviing up there toniight.   
EB: woah that’s probably the most you’ve ever said to me at one time. he was fine enough to shower before he went and he really hates the hospital so he didn’t want me going with him. it’s a bit hard to say no to him when you know what he went through, but i think he’d hate us pitying him. so far it’s also hard not to do that. it’s different being around him in real life.   
EB: you’re a good friend soll.   
TA: ii gue22. he ju2t get2 under my 2kiin.   
TA: ... what doe2 KL look liike anyway2?   
EB: adorabloodthirsty is entirely accurate. pictures tomorrow even if it kills me.    
TA: ehehehe excellent   
TA: get 2ome re2t JN, you’ll need iit iif you’re goiing two try getting KL’2 piicture.   
EB: thanks soll, but i’m going to wait up for him. looking forward to seeing a picture of you too!    
TA: 2hiit

\-- twinArmageddons [TA] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--

John somehow managed to stay up with the aid of too much Mountain Dew and Dave spamming video links and kitsch ironic stuff most of the time. Even the night owl drifted away sometime between four and five in the morning and John was left sitting in a daze. He tried to work on his coding but that really wasn’t a good idea when he was stupid tired because it just left him more frustrated than it usually did. At around five thirty he drank the last of the Mountain Dew and rested his eyes. Then he heard a car pull into the driveway.

Immediately, John was wide awake and leaping down stairs three at a time to wench open the front door. Apparently his body had left some energy in reserves for that very moment and for that he was thankful. His dad stood, arm outstretched to grab the knob with a newspaper rolled and tucked under the other arm. Beside him Karl swayed and stared wide eyed at John. Well, one eye wide as the other was currently being covered by his hand and an icepack.

“Karl, you’re home!” He threw his arms around his friend with a laugh, being careful to not hug the bejesus out of him. Karl didn’t resist or even say anything. Something hard pressed against his stomach and he looked down curiously. His lips fell for a moment. Thick white plaster wrapped around Karl’s left arm which secured between them by a black sling. “And you have a cast.”

“Did you... stay up all night?” Karl mumbled, frowning when his words came out slightly slurred and slow. John’s dad patted his friend on the head before stepping past John. John only then realized his dad had to go to work in less than an hour. But he had taken his son’s friend, who he knew only a little about, to the emergency room and sat there for hours anyways because it was the right thing to do. John kind of wanted to follow his dad just to tell him that he was also proud of him, but that white plaster beckoned. It called for a blue sharpie like a siren song. John promptly led Karl through the house by pushing him by the shoulders. 

“Egbert, seriously... where are we going? I’m really tired and kind of would like to pass out... on anything resembling a surface. That table is looking like a pretty good opportunity and the floor is quickly catching up.”

“Shh.” John steered them into the downstairs office and opened up the nearest desk draw. He fished around through pens and miscellaneous supplies for a solid minute before he found what he was looking for. Brandishing the pen wish a flourish, John descended upon the plaster.

“What the fuck... are you doing?” Karl asked, watched as John wrote his name with so much gusto that it took up half the surface. John stood back, appraising the blue block letters. “Okay, now that you’ve gotten that out of your system can we please go to bed? ...By that I mean can you show me where I can sleep, not implying that we’d be sharing – right. I’m tired and sedated. Don’t judge me.” That explained the whole dazed and kind of overall intoxicated vibe Karl was giving off. The short burst of energy John had found was quickly leaving him so he agreed that it was time to go to sleep.

“Movies when we wake up?” He asked as they both climbed the stairs with way too much effort.

“Sure, all the movies,” Karl agreed, yawning. They somehow managed to brush their teeth – John always had a spare toothbrush or four from his frequent trips to the dentist, courteously his problem dental record – and trudged into John’s room. John all but threw himself on his bed, groaning when his head hit the lumpiest pillow in existence. Karl hesitated by the door before shutting it quietly and made his way over to the mattress flush against John’s. He melted down until he was a pile of Karl. John didn’t even bother changing into pajamas and Karl sure wasn’t complaining.

“And picture taking?” He waited for a reply before closing his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Why not.”


	3. In Which Karl Vantas Doesn't Feel Pretty

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] opened memo on board THIS IS STUPID --

EB: hi everyone! john and karl here. obviously karl named the memo but i finally got to start one!  
EB: karl is not allowed to type, what with his arm being in a cast even though he says it’s fine. 6 weeks to heal isn’t fine, so i’m totally in the right here.  
EB: anyways, since i got to meet our elusive co-buddychief in the flesh and it’s just not fair to keep him all to myself, i thought we could all post photos of ourselves!  
EB: We will start! http://tinyurl.com/EBandCG i’m on the right, karl’s on the left.

Karl wasn’t sure what he had been thinking when John has practically attacked him with a camera as soon as they work up at the early hours of two in the afternoon. Actually, he had been thinking that he could sleep some more, except his stomach was bitching about not having anything inside of it and John was withholding food until he got what he wanted. Honestly, Karl hadn’t actually expected John to think his photo shoot plan through to the point of barring very late breakfast or kind of late lunch. John had descended when he had conceded, shutter snapping frame after frame in merciless glee. His past self was an idiot for agreeing to this, even with being sedated and suffering from a bought of insomnia. Seriously, the nurses were sure gung-ho about pumping him full of drugs after one little table flip. Okay, one table with medical equipment on it into a nurse as he panicked into a corner while swearing his mouth off at them. Fuck hospitals, seriously.

So after a half decent picture came out of the plethora—John’s grin showed off his front teeth as he slung his arm around Karl’s shoulder casually, peace signing with his free hand, and Karl’s face mostly turned to hide the black eye at least bit, all stiff body language and scowl in place as per usual—and they had both eaten a large bowl of sugary cereal, they started up another mass memo for everyone to see. Karl was still kind of loathing himself about the last one, as he was with most things he did upon reflection, but apparently John, feeling large and in charge, had forbid him from two handed typing. At least he wasn’t going to make a huge ass of himself by ranting about how unsafe this all was before doing it anyways. Social media be damned, who needed to see someone’s face to know who they were?

John smiled and knocked their shoulders together as the first of their friends picked up on the memo. Karl’s cheeks betrayed him for the umpteenth time and he looked away. It was becoming more and more apparent that John was a very touchy-feely type of person, while Karl was the extreme opposite, not entirely by his own choice. He really didn’t know how to deal with it, especially from John. He took a moment to try and regain some composure, or at least for his face to stop feeling like someone had just thrown scalding water all over it, before checking out who said what. He groaned at the appearance of red text.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] responded to memo --

TG: oh hell no  
TG: i can tell from seeing quite a few shops in my time  
TG: that someone has some adobe creative suite free trial happened up in here  
TG: not believing that is vantas for one second  
TG: no fucking way

“Fuck you, Strider,” Karl growled, an obscene gesture directed at the computer monitor that was intended to transcend the rational and be witnessed by one Dave Strider all the way in Texas. Laughter followed quickly courtesy John, who perked up even more as another undoubtedly stupid idea filled the cavernous hollows of his headspace. He just grinned down at Karl—it was seriously unfair that John was so ungodly tall—until Karl raised an eyebrow in question.

“We should go on the webcam!” He was practically bouncing in his chair over how excited he was.

“Not a hope in hell.” Crestfallen was an understatement. Egbert’s world had just ended. Sure that the chairs had been set up for this purpose, Karl smack John with his good arm without having to twist. Apparently he had a bruised rib or two in his back on the left side which made sleeping, moving, and breathing uncomfortable. Painkillers were helpful but fuck if he wanted to make things any worse than they already were. John had had another mini-breakdown over the news of the other injury, swearing revenge on Karl’s foster dad in an uncharacteristic, serious spurt of violence. It was kind of a nice sentiment to have someone be that riled up over him but he didn’t like making John worry so much over someone like him.

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] responded to memo --

GG: this is one of the best ideas!  
GG: so cute you guys! i had no idea!! :O  
TG: just you wait harley  
TG: the best has yet to come  
TG: im the best by the way  
TG: the most anticipated current event since raptor jesus rose from the grave  
TG: its coming  
GG: i don’t have a webcam or camera right now so i don’t have a recent picture!  
GG: is an old picture still ok??

“She thinks we’re cute?” To be honest that was kind of surprising. In the past he had only ever gotten the gawking stares of people taking him in like he had some kind of rare disease; albinism was a congenital disorder apparently, which was also referred to as a congenital disease so he guessed the looks were justified. When he was young he had been teased relentlessly since what kind of kid couldn’t play outside for very long because their skin and eyes were too sensitive? In high school, it was such a regular occurrence to be asked if his hair colour was natural that he was sure everyone had come up to him personally to insult him. Hooded shirts became his entire wardrobe and he tried to shut out the world with even more effort. Even at his two jobs the general public was annoyingly interested in his pigment challenged existence. So cute? No, he didn’t get cute.

“Karl, you’re all kinds of cute. Uh. In a manly way?” But John thought he was cute in some capacity and John had always been an open book kind of person: easy to read, thick-headed, but not a lot of pages to turn. He wasn’t sure how he should feel about that opinion on his appearance though. His cheeks sure as hell did, as they had their opinion to everything involving John. Goddamn he was blushing too much and being completely obvious. He had to thank whatever deity there might be, somewhere out there, that John was apparently clueless to it.

“Nice save there.”

EB: yep! you don’t even have to do it if you don’t want to, we just think it’d be nice to see everyone!

Karl smacked John again, feeling that this was going to be a minute by minute occurrence with how things were progressing. John vocalized an ‘ow’ and typed the word at the same time. As he finished his response, he plucked a puffy Cheeto from one of the many bags scattered in front of them on the desk, wiggling it in front of Karl’s face.

EB: ow, okay, i think it would be and i think karl does but is being all moody about it so he doesn’t want me to include him in the statement. shhh only cheetos now karl shhh.

Teeth snapped down a millimetre from John’s fingers after Karl scanned the words. He crunched the snack loudly as John pulled his hand to his chest, warily side-eying him for a moment. Karl quickly fished another out of the bag while John was too intimidated to take any, followed by another. He absently sucked the powdered cheese from his fingers. _Click_. He raised an eyebrow as John snapped another picture for good measure. An innocent smile that was anything but.

\-- twinArmageddons [TA] responded to memo --

TA: care to explaiin why you’re a such a twiink, KL?  
EB: care to go fuck yourself, captor?  
EB: wait, that makes it seem like i’m saying that. sorry!! i’m just quoting him.  
EB: CARE TO GO FUCK YOURSELF, CAPTOR?  
EB: he he he  
EB: anyways, pics or gtfo! except not really. :B

John laughed and Karl suspected that he really did laugh out loud every time he typed it. He scoffed but couldn’t fight back the urge to laugh too. The sound that came out of his mouth was quick, his breath hitching in his throat. He straightened as the jolt of pain shot up his back, lungs freezing in an attempt to ease the discomfort. John didn’t notice, too busy opening up a link that Strider had posted. Karl stuffed another Cheeto in his mouth to try and cover up the wince, which turned out to be a bad idea.

TG: you cant rush art  
TG: http://tinyurl.com/ohheygurl i was born for this moment

John nearly fell off his chair he was laughing so hard while Karl wasn’t so graceful. Bits of Cheeto flew on a direct course to the monitor screen while he tried not to follow Egbert’s lead. Strider was doing this because he knew laughing right now felt like a soft stab through the back, Karl was sure of it. There was a teenage boy on the screen with his short white hair somehow done up in pigtails, rocking a gaudy pink Mama Mia t-shirt with the bottom all tucked over itself at the collar to show off copious volumes of skin. His face was expressionless save for his lips, which protruded outwards rather duck like. Black aviator shades and red boxers sticking out under dark jeans just made the whole thing score even higher on the Absolutely Fucking Ridiculous metre. His setting of choice was the bathroom, of course, toilet and tub—with floral print curtains and a pile of swords on the chequered floor— in full view. Fucking hell. He punched Egbert good in the side as he tried to calm down. Why did bruised ribs have to hurt so bad?

EB: dave oh god your face. he he he. we’re dying over here. there is half eaten cheese snack on my screen. he he. ow. it’s like one of those myspace profiles gone horribly right.  
TG: you know just what to say to a girl

“Um, are you okay?” John’s voice was full of concern when his giggling had died down. A helping hand hovered just over Karl’s arm and stayed there as if John was afraid touching him would hurt him. It was swiftly swatted away.

“Ribs,” Karl wheezed, clutching himself around the middle and squeezing his eyes shut. He felt tears rolling down his face and promptly wiped them away. How did he not feel this yesterday? Was it the adrenalin after the very one sided fight, the fear of having nowhere to go, the anticipation of meeting someone he knew and could trust, or a combination of those that had numbed this feeling? Whatever it was, fuck painkillers right along with hospitals. Too many and he was in line for the short bus with his mittens buttoned to his jacket, too few and this bullshit happened. There seemed to be no middle ground in the healing process.

“Give me a sec,” John murmured, disappearing from the room with a few long, purposeful strides.

GG: ow?? here’s mine from a few years ago!! http://tinyurl.com/this-is-so-old-me-and-bec  
TG: damn harley thats some fine photography  
TG: not looking bad yourself  
TG: sup  
GG: :D  
GG: so why ow john?  
GG: helloo??  
TG: i can only imagine whats keeping him and none of its good

Karl watched the back and forth of red and green until John returned with a glass of water, a bottle of white pills, an ice pack and a cloth wrap. After some hesitation, Karl let John figure out how to get the cold compress on him because he sure as hell couldn’t easily reach the spot it needed to go without moving in any direction. John instructed him to stand up and lift his shirt, which made him feel kind of self conscious even though as far as thing were going him being shirtless was a thing. The ice pack was secured in place with the wrap, John walking two circles around him with a small grin.

After some grumbling and some stern looks, one T-3 was sitting in Karl’s belly along with half a glass of water, joining countless fallen Cheetos. Karl shot John a dirty look but mumbled his appreciation. The idiot just beamed and opened the link Jade had sent.

A girl with wild black hair and large round glasses smiled in sincere happiness at the camera, arms secured around a white dog’s neck in a light hug. Wispy fabric from her green dress caught in the wind that flowed through the field of wildflowers the two sat in. Petals of reds and yellows were captured as they danced in the vivid blue sky, puffy white clouds high above a distant mountain range. Her front teeth were large and her overall gangly appearance had her as a shoe in for John’s twin sister separated at birth. It was admittedly stunning to look at. Karl almost called it fake, pulled from a National Geographic, but it was just so _Jade_ that he couldn’t argue the authenticity.

TG: vantas im warning you  
TG: dont make me give you a time out  
GG: karl wouldn’t do anything to john!  
GG: he knows the consequences!!  
EB: ow because karl keeps hitting me. you’re so pretty jade! bec sure is a big dog!  
GG: aw thanks! also stop being such a fuckass karl! i read your memo and i feel bad for what you’re going through but you shouldn’t hurt john because you’re hurt!

Jade never failed to make Karl fully aware of what an enormous dick he was when she had an opinion on his attitude, which was quite honestly just about every time they spoke. When other people said it, it really didn’t matter to him as much as Jade’s input. The girl had a no nonsense approach to life, with the same non-filtered mindset as a child, and thus had no room for any of his bullshit. Usually she put it in the simplest form possible for him to understand, using an insult he practically invented just to hit the nail right on the head: don’t be a fuckass. “I’m sorry.”

“Karl, it’s okay.” John was too damn lenient with him. All this niceness and forgiveness would just mean Karl was going to keep getting away with being his self and his self was the kind of person you just wanted to take a tire iron to until he stopped existing. He had it on good authority that that was the impression he gave off. The dipshits who called themselves his peers up to a month ago took it upon themselves to either make it a point to ignore him or shove him into garbage cans. There had been a consoler at school he had driven to such a deep depression that she retired twenty years early. At work, customers regularly threatened his life and the more civilized ones were disgusted with his attitude; not that he didn’t at least try to do his job properly, but if people weren’t going to respect that he was a human too he sure as hell wasn’t returning their used junk. Karl was the asshole. It was him. It was his identity and he wore it well.

John didn’t seem to read any of the fucking memos, literal or otherwise. If he did, he wouldn’t be forgiving Karl. If he did, he would be just like all the other normal, sensible people in the world and hate him. If he did, Karl would be praying for one of his other online chums to be stupid enough to help by throwing a lifeline into the hole—no, that was when his real dad had died, that had been the hole—crater that was his life.

“It’s not okay. I shouldn’t just fucking punch or hit you when I feel a little frustrated, which is quite frankly all the time. It makes me just as bad as he is and I can’t stand thinking that I’m turning out like _this_. Too little too late, that ship has hauled ass out of port to sail the seas of being a huge douche to everyone forever. I should use my words like a good boy but I just can’t because I’m not good. I’m such an asshole I don’t even know what I’m doing half the time until it happens so I can immediately feel like an even bigger asshole for doing or saying whatever filth spews forth from my every orifice. I just keep fucking vomiting words until they’re just everywhere and there’s no way that stain is coming out of the carpet so you either need to cover it up with something and deal with the smell or buy new floors. As in, get rid of me and find better friend, which wouldn’t be a hard task to accomplish, since the first person you talk to would be better than me. I don’t have any excuse for it, John. I’m sorry.” By the end the anger dissolved into a pathetic mumble, shutting out the world with closed eyes.

“Karl, it’s going to be fine. Okay?” An already familiar pressure secured around his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. Karl kept his lids locked until he was sure he wasn’t going to make an even bigger emotional scene by crying when he didn’t even have the decency to be hurt again. When he had calmed down enough, he shot John a questioning glare. How was any of his bullshit fine? “I was taking it as a friendly smack because you’re my friend and I was probably being dumb those times you hit me. It’s like, affectionate violence!”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to not be me so much.” John leaned into him and Karl hated the way he responded to every little thing. He wasn’t thirteen anymore. He was not going to start feeling like this all over again just because he was getting to know John in the flesh. He was still the same John. Unfortunately, that was the problem.

“Hey, I think it’s you who you’re not being now. All this defence made up of insults and swearing and hitting is like a wall you’ve built up around yourself. I’m just hoping you can be the Karl who loves romance movies and sings pop songs around me more. It seems to me that that’s the real Karl.” A sad quirk of the lips accompanied that kind of perfect little summary, his hand circling slowly in a reassuring way. Part of Karl wanted to break the disappointing news to him; all those things might be true, but he had been this person so long that acting any differently was like telling any other person to stop breathing. Not that being a nice, normal person would kill him, but it seemed like an impossible concept after getting so far into being an angry, stupid person. But John wanted so much to believe than under all the scowling and distrust there was something more than hate and fear.

“Trust me, he’s still an ass,” Karl mumbled, causing the sudden migration of John’s hand to his hair.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” John laughed after tousling the locks sufficiently.

EB: jade, it doesn’t really interpret well but it’s kind of part of his charm, like in the way his ranting should probably be annoying but isn’t at all. you just end up kind of impressed at how creative and gross his metaphors can get. and most of you people are online so i expect some response!  
TG: never pegged you as a masochist egderp  
EB: HA HA DAVE. SO FUNNY. I AM LAUGHING SO MUCH. HA HA HA.  
EB: crud, that was me, not karl. sarcasm how do you work not in caps? :B  
TA: ehehehe lucky you dealiing wiith the priince22. 2iince ariia i2n’t on, here’2 a piicture of the two of u2 at the zoo la2t week.  http://tinyurl.com/zoo-0612

The first offence, tinted shades which would be bad enough if the lenses weren’t two different colours: one blue, one red, both equally stupid. Secondly, a bowling shirt three sizes much too large and all yellow, black, and chequered, with a red shirt under that which cut off at the elbows. Third, who wears khaki shorts let alone khaki shorts that were clearly intended for females? Fourth, a fucking fanny pack because where the hell else is he going to put his phone and wallet when his pants are that tight? Fifth, socks and goddamn sandals.

Karl felt like a vein in his head was going to pop. Captor’s appearance was assaulting him and he had a good mind to make a citizen’s arrest. Probably the worst thing was that he was regrettably quite attractive, but the fashion retardation was just too distracting to really take in the interesting angles of his face or the wiry frame or the choppy black hair. Put him in jeans and a t-shirt and he’d be a regular heartthrob, made all the more appealing by his intelligence. Karl chose to banish that opinion to the furthest recesses of his mind because he wasn’t going to even fucking dwell on what he just thought.

Back to the point. The clothes were so distracting that Karl hardly glanced at the smiling, wide eyed Asian girl at Soll’s side because she looked like a normal—albeit really excited, which must have had something to do with them standing outside the amphibian house—human and Soll Captor looked like the worst of Value Village personified.

Karl was already talking before he realized it.

“Oh my fucking god. Of course that’s Captor because who else would actually go outside looking like that and think it was a good idea? This can’t be real life, I’m passed out in the hospital as a nurse waits for me to wake up to issue an assault charge against me and none of this is happening because what the fuck does he think he’s wearing? Seriously, I have all the fashion savvy of an average slob who chooses what to wear by how dark the clothes are and if they smell alright but who actually cares that little about what they throw on in the morning? Why are his lenses two different colours? Oh god, it’s that duality thing he goes on about, isn’t it? He has got to be shitting me. That’s actually a thing? I can’t even take it. Kaya would throw the biggest hissy-fit after having a minor heart attack if she were on to see this, and will do so once she logs on. She will make it her mission in life to cloth this sorry excuse for a human being because... God damn it, I can’t even register what Aria looks like because my eyes just keep going to the bowling shirt and the high socks and they’re just like what the fuck are you making me look at and why isn’t it on fire?” Karl took a moment to breath, finally cluing in to the furious typing going on beside him. There was a wall of blue all caps, word for word of what he had just said. With a flourish, the return key was pressed. There it was for all to see. Well, Karl guessed being embarrassed about his involvement in another memo was actually going to happen today as well, courtesy Egbert. “Did you actually just do that?”

“It wouldn’t be the same without you ranting about something.”

TA: ii will driive all the way up there ju2t to kiick your a22, KL.

Karl couldn’t actually believe the insensitive prick actually had the balls to say that after what had happened yesterday. Had his obvious mental disorder kicked that specific memory from his mind after he had been so intent on Karl being safe? Had he forgotten that someone had already beaten him to the kicking Karl’s ass party? Not that he hadn’t said some things that were rude himself, but he hadn’t intended Captor to be privy to that rant about his extremely questionable wardrobe. So fuck him.

John kept up with his words, typing out his message in response.

EB: YEAH. TOTALLY THE RIGHT TIME TO SAY THAT TO THE GUY WITH THE CAST MUNCHING ON T-3S FOR A FUCK TON OF BRUISED RIBS WHO COMES FROM A BROKEN FOSTER HOME. NO, IT’S OKAY, ROUND TWO OF PEOPLE HURTING ME, COME AT ME BRO.  
EB: he didn’t actually say that last little bit but i couldn’t help it. and wow, no threats guys. we’re all buddies.  
TA: 2hiit, yeah ii’m 2orry KL. how much of an a22hole can ii even be? threateniing you ii2 liike the la2t thing ii want.

Karl shuffled awkwardly in his chair, the anger dissipating with Soll’s response. It was one thing to type out his apologies, but another thing entirely to say the words out loud. It made him feel smaller than usual because he was always so fucking in the wrong he should really think about purchasing some real estate there or at least be handing out apologies left and right for all the stuff he did that warranted one. John waited patiently, hands poised over the keys, caps locked, for Karl’s inevitable response. He sighed, intently focused on itching at the spot where his cast met his wrist as he quietly replied.

EB: I GUESS I’M SORRY ABOUT EGBERT POSTING THAT AND EVEN SAYING IT IN THE FIRST PLACE FOR HIM TO POST. I’M SURE YOU KNOW YOU’RE NOT SOME KIND OF FASHION ICON AND DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT BEING A REGULAR CALIFORNIA GIRL. I’M JUST SURPRISED YOU’D SAY THAT WHEN YOU KIND OF KNOW WHAT WENT DOWN LAST NIGHT AND ALL.  
TA: ii wrote what ii would 2ay any other day, becau2e iit’2 ju2t u2 2ayiing 2tupiid crap two each other that doe2n’t mean anything. but iit ii2n’t any other day for you and you’re hurt and ii’m 2orry ii 2aiid iit. ii wa2n’t thiinkiing.  
EB: OKAY. SO WE’RE BOTH SORRY. I GUESS WE CAN MOVE ON THEN AND NOT CONTINUE THIS SCENE IN FRONT OF EVERYONE’S SCREENS.  
EB: crisis averted!  
TA: why diid you even type what he 2aiid?  
EB: he has quite the right hook.  
EB: ow. <3

“Was that really necessary? I didn’t even hit you.” John laughed, knocking their shoulders together again.

“Yes to everything.”

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] responded to memo --

GC: COOLK1D SO COOL!! 1 4M OV3RLO4D1NG W1TH HOW COOL YOU 4R3!!  
GC: 4ND JOHN  
GC: KARL  
GC: YOU KNOW WH4T YOU D1D YOU SHOULD B3 4SH4M3D OF POST1NG TH4T P1CTUR3 THOS3 L3V3LS OF 4DOR4BL3 4R3 1LL3GAL 1 M1GHT H4V3 TO T4K3 YOU 1N >;]  
EB: i’m not even sure how you’re seeing these pictures, what with being legally blind, but thanks! if you thought that was good, get a load of this: http://tinyurl.com/mmcheese  
EB: karl not putting all kind of effort into looking angry. cheetos do that to him.

And there was a profile of him, close up, eyebrows quirked rather than drawn, tongue shifting over orange dusted fingers. It was mortifying. Wait. When had John even connected the camera to put the picture he had just taken on the computer? How did he miss that? Karl figured it had to have been when he was either being an idiot about Captor or when he was apologizing one of the five thousand times he had in the last hour. Fuck.

GC: STOP 1T I C4N’T T4K3 IT >:O  
TG: i refuse to believe vantas would ever lick his fingers all dainty like and not just bite them off because fingers are for pussies and he thinks theyll grow back  
TG: who is the guy you hired to mess with me  
TG: and where have you hidden the body of the angry one  
EB: he he he! never telling.  
GC: V1C1 4ND M3 V4C4T1ON1NG TOG3TH3R 4ND SH3 INSISTS THIS IS TH3 B3ST PICTUR3  
GC: W3’R3 1N SW1MSU1TS  
GC: YOU’R3 W3LCOM3 http://tinyurl.com/beeeeeeeeach-08

Two girls were poising in front of the camera, both tall with dark hair but it seemed that the similarities ended there. The one on the left was bent suggestively in a revealing navy bikini, showing off the curves of her mature body. The wave of black hair could almost be considered clothing, as there was just so much of it falling around her. A confident smirk was on her painted lips, eyes fully visible behind large frames. Her lashes were done up in bright blue mascara, icy eyes regarding the camera. She didn’t look like she was going to do any actual swimming done up like she was except she probably would anyways. Viki, without a doubt.

Just as the one on the right was undoubtedly Teri. She was all angles and no good ones. With a comically small chest and painfully narrow hips her only saving grace was the very slight taper in the middle. She could very well stab someone to death with her elbows. A very red and very teal one piece was her choice in swimwear, adding to the illusion that she was younger than she really was. A short cut of chocolate brown framed her face, bright red glasses covering milky eyes. A white and red cane was held with one secured on the top, tilted at an angle as her legs were spread shoulder width apart. Her other hand was secured around a popsicle stick, a melting mess of sticky sugar covering it, her fingers and her outstretched tongue. Of course.

TG: just guessing here youre the one in the pointy shades licking that hideous monstrosity of a popsicle  
TG: aren’t you  
GC: M4YB3

“I’m a little surprised that she’s attractive. Teri, I mean. Even though she’s boney as fuck and could pass as a boy if she felt like it, she has this air about her, don’t you think?” He turned to find John nodding but also typing that question out and sending it off before he could stop him. “Fuck! Why did you do that?” He cursed, swatting at the other boy who promptly batted his hands until they had a full on slap fight going on. Even though John has more artillery with two hands, Karl had much more experience and soon John was waving the white flag of surrender.

GC: K4RL I N3V3R KN3W YOU F3LT TH4T W4Y 3XC3PT I TOT4LLY DID  
GC: 4R3 YOUR F33LINGS FOR M3 R3SURF4CING? I KN3W IT W42 ONLY 4 M4TT3R OF TIM3. >:]  
TG: hold up is there a thing happening here that i dont know about  
GG: they were a couple for a while! online only though. jeeze how did you not know that??  
TG: so you were together but you never exchanged pictures  
TG: not sure if that is supposed to be romantic or really fucking sad  
GC: Y34R2 4GO K4RL W42 SO SW33T ON M3   
TA: waiit waiit waiit. when diid that even happen?

“So you and Teri?” John asked, eyebrows making a good effort at reaching his hairline. Karl sighed into a hand, cursing that that certain tidbit of his past was now coming back to haunt him. He was only surprised that it didn’t happen sooner what with how many gossips, shippers and meddlers there were in their circle of friends.

“It was a long time ago and we thought it could work out but it couldn’t and we’re not talking about it beyond what I just told you. Take a note, Egbert: everyone get out of my business.” He had to snap John to attention and point at the screen for him to register that that was someone he actually wanted the others to know. When the message was up, accompanied by a short sentence by John—Karl was a little horrified to read the “someone needs a hug!” below his caps— arms were thrown high around the top of his chest. “What the fuck are you doing?” Karl cringed as the words came out high and frantic.

“You sounded upset,” John said, as if hugging was the only solution for that particular problem and Karl wanted to throw his arms in the air and ask whatever higher power what he did to deserve this mess, except his arms were pinned. Living with Egbert was going to be a long and, most likely, entirely too frustrating undetermined amount of time. Karl could already imagine the talks about personal space the two were going to have to share and John would undoubtedly ignore in the foreseeable future. At least he’d try to get across that touching was not okay for their friendship.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Why did he have to sound so miserable when he wanted to command the harshness he had when he typed? It pissed him off that he was being so weak here, all but nestled in John’s long arms. He bit down on his lip when the hand met his hair, soothing ‘shhh’s whispering out near his ear, and he fully deserved the sting as the flesh reopen under his teeth. Why was it so hard to sound like he just wanted to be left alone? It probably was because, at some extreme depth of his soul which would crush most things with the sheer pressure of how far down it was, he didn’t want John to let go. Right then he felt that that thought was more terrifying than his foster dad could ever be. That thought could ruin whatever this boy saw in him. “John, let go. Let go of me please.” Who was even talking? That couldn’t have been him because he didn’t stutter and definitely didn’t sob like a baby over stupid things like this. Especially stupid thing with sky blue eyes being warm and comfortable enough for him to never want to let go. This was a catastrophic mess of emotions he didn’t want to feel anymore.

“Nuh uh, dude. Not until you’ve calmed down and stopped crying.” Karl knew he had to let this thing go, had to hold on to the reality that John was really just trying to be a friend. He let his good arm clutch on to the other boy for just a moment, a moment where he shuttered in a deep inhale of John— which he promised to himself was the first and last time he would do so— before struggling out of the hold.

“Don’t do that again, Egbert,” Karl snapped after scrubbing furiously at his face with his sleeve, trying to get rid of the visible sign of vulnerability. He knew John was looking at the tear trails on his cheeks because their eyes didn’t quite meet. With far too much hesitation, John gave an undetermined shrugged and turned back to the computer monitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See those tiny URLs? Yeah. None of them are actually things. [bluearturtle](http://bluearturtle.tumblr.com/) did do a lovely illustration of Jade that you can [see here](http://bluearturtle.tumblr.com/image/20049287728)!


	4. In Which John Egbert Just Wanted to Watch Movies

John was having a really hard time figuring out what it was Karl needed. For sure the boy could do with a good dozen more hugs a day than he was use to, because he was really suffering from a hug deficiency. That could be dangerous if left unchecked. But Karl wasn’t familiar with the gesture and Karl flinched when people tried to touch him, so while hugs were just great, it probably wasn’t a good idea to just throw himself all over him and expect things to magically become okay.

It was kind of weird for a guy to hug another guy unless some serious stuff had gone down or it was in a manly, pat on the back kind of way anyways. What were the rules though if some serious stuff went down because of a hug? John was positive Karl was way more upset about being touched than the reason John had hugged him for in the first place. So while he wanted to embrace away all the bad, he wanted his friend to trust him more.

John had almost thought he hit the nail on the head when fingers bunched in the fabric of his shirt, only to miss completely and hit the wall when Karl pulled away. Then when Karl tried to get him to guarantee that touching was off limits he couldn’t just nod and say he wouldn’t. This was one of Karl’s problems and John wanted to help him get past it, so he shrugged and crossed his fingers for good measure while making the vague gesture. He made a promise to himself that he’d seek out some advice before any more spontaneous bouts of touching happened.

He looked at the other boy to his left, silently taking in the arms drawn in on himself and the defensive curve of his back. If he were a dog, his hackles would be up in warning, but he was a person and he was still shuddering and John felt terrible because he caused that. He just kept on forgetting that the abuse had been real, even though there were visible signs all over him. Did that mean he they could never bro fist because any kind of touching freaked Karl out? He didn’t want that but he didn’t want to be the case of any more tears. So John bit his lip and resisted to urge to rub his friend’s back, turning his attention to the computer.

As the hour went on, a few more of their friends sent through pictures of themselves or with other friends. Rose responded with a short “I supposed I’ll partake in this event as well” and a portrait of a refined young lady with short platinum hair gazing stoically at the camera, seated in an uncomfortably large chair by the fireplace. Kaya did show up and reacted in predictable distress upon seeing Soll commit a crime against fashion but still wanted to “Join In As I Don’t Wish To Be Out Of The Proverbial Loop” with an elegant black and white headshot of a thin model sporting a timeless haircut. She then took a moment to comment on Karl’s “Remarkably Similar to Jaco Van Den Hoven Albeit Pleasantly Whitewashed” quality after fretting over the goings on of last night, finally coming to wonder if the clothes she had sent him over the years clashed too much with his softer than anticipated appearance. John didn’t question the offline interaction, partly because Karl’s breathing was still kind of shaky.

They sat in relative silence as the rest picked up on the memo. For a weekday, everyone sure was readily available! John felt that the picture sharing was totally meant to be while Karl grumbled about people enthusiastically wasting their lives away on the internet instead of being proactive members of society. John did point out that that was kind of what they were doing, but Karl also pointed out that he was a waste of skin anyway and John was an enabler. It only warranted a short laugh because John was pretty sure Karl actually believed that.

The ever nervous Talo— “uH, sINCE gAMI IS IN REHAB AND ALL, hERE'S ONE OF US,”— followed a very excited Fifi— “–Eric is at sc)(ool so... )(ere!!” — and Nell came in at the end after getting ‘purrme33ion’ from a not impressed Elie— “:33 < *ac thinks karl is purrhaps the most handsome before she scurries away to find a picture*”. Soon, John and Karl were scrolling through the whole set of their friends and printing them out on glossy photo paper. John was all over hanging those up somewhere between all of his awesome movie posters. The collection had grown over the years, but there was still some space here and there. He cut them out with a pair of scissors as Karl one-handed keyboard smashed at people to stop noting that he was adorable. John reminded him that he totally was and another mini-breakdown unsurprisingly ensured. Triggers of Karl’s emotional turmoil thus far: foster dad, hospital, touching, appearance.

“Since when did this happen? I’ve been called opposite by so many people so many times that this isn’t even funny. It’s just fucking confusing. Why would you guys just lie about this? You could at least be honest, since I thought over the years we became reluctant friends,” Karl snarled, lips curling back to bare teeth. The bottom one was really red, the split only having just stopped bleeding though with how tightly it was being stretched back John was pretty sure it was going to open up again. With all the biting and cranky facing, it might never get the chance to heal.

“Friends for all of time, no reluctance ever,” John stated, just so they were clear on where they stood. But wait, what had he just said? It wasn’t sticking. Maybe John was having a hard time getting it in his head because it was _stupid_. “People said you were ugly? Are you even kidding me?” Karl looked deadly serious, the very definition of someone not playing a prank on him, which would be nigh impossible as John was quite the prankster himself. “Okay. Pre-emptive no homo for as long as it takes for me to get this through to you. You’re good looking. Like, as a bro to another bro here, _really_ good looking for a guy and just as a person in general. Kaya even said you look like a model, and models are kind of big in the attractive department. Your eyelashes alone are inspiring a new chapter in Nell’s enormous crush on you.” What was that look even for? “You have eyelashes for days and they’re white.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m pretty much one step away from being abandoned at a circus to live the remainder of my days as the main event to the freak show.” John just flailed at him for a moment because he didn’t get how this was even happening. Karl was going to make him spazz right out over this.

“How do you believe that for a second? Have you ever looked in the mirror before, Karl? You’re hot!” Woah, that really did just come out of his mouth. He had just shouted at another guy that he was hot. That was... Well. He had to smoothly cover that one up. Think fast, Karl was staring like John had just started floating: dumbstruck crossed with a kind of disgusted anticipation. “Not in a gay way. Just in a, hey, you’re an attractive guy and I’m secure enough to say that another guy would be considered attractive, way.” So smooth. The smoothest. “And you being albino is exotic or something like that? I bet people stare at you all the time because, not only are you good looking, you’re good looking with really cool unique features. Like eyelashes forever.” Wait, didn’t he already mention those?

“Why are you so hung up on my eyelashes?” Darn it! John cracked just a bit, and only just a bit. No full on whining over it, that would just be stupid. Maybe slight whining.

“I don’t know! They’re so white and long, I don’t know what to do!” Who even allowed Karl to have pretty, girly eyelashes? It was not fair and totally distracting. Why was this conversation getting so awkward? John had had such good intentions to start.

“They blend into my skin. How closely are you looking at them?” There was the slightest tug on Karl’s lips. “Are you stealing glances when I’m not paying attention? Stay away from my lashes, you pervert, they’re not your fucking eye candy.” Twitch. John realized Karl was trying not to smile. He was joking around right now and, John decided, that was awesome. Maybe he had just shrugged John’s comments off as an attempt at humour too. That would be nice.

“No way! Seriously, do you curl them? Did you do something to make them like that? Why would you do this to me, Karl?” He tried to sound as desperate as possible, making grabbing motions towards his friend’s face but was careful to not actually get too close. Karl’s mouth broke out into a small grin and John was positive his was following suit. They could never be actors in the movies they loved so much; their poker-faces were terrible. Dave would be ashamed of them both if he knew. He must never know.

“How was I supposed to know you’d have a fucking boner for my eyelashes? Oh, I wasn’t because that isn’t a thing outside of your crazy John bubble of weird fetishes. Next you’ll be going on about my thumbs or something equally as stupid.”

“You do have nice thumbs.” John noted, looking down. Actually, yeah, Karl did have nice thumbs and hands in general. His fingers were long and thin without being boney, sort of elegant and soft looking. John had the hybrid of a pianist’s and a stock boy’s hands. They could play a mean score though! He totally had sheet music from all the Zelda games and would have to show off to Karl sometime. After that run on thought, John looked back up mischievously. “I’m going to touch your eyelashes when you’re asleep and there’s nothing you can do about it. They’re begging for it.” John wiggled his fingers suggestively.

“What the fuck.” They both laughed, though Karl’s was quickly lost in a flash flood of curses. Bruised ribs were such a killjoy to bonding time. “Ow ow, damn it, Egbert!”

“Do you get that you’re crazy good looking, dude?” John asked softly, as if speaking too loudly would hurt Karl more. He kicked himself for adding in that ‘crazy’ part because he really didn’t need to stress the measure.

“I think you all are about as sharp as sopping wet slices of bread that are well on their way to graduating into being used as some sad kind of paste, but yours are the only opinions that even fucking matter anyways so I guess I shouldn’t completely write them off.” Karl shifted uncomfortably before changing the subject. John was really glad when he did. “What are we going to do now?”

“You and me in a room together at long last, what do you think we’re going to do, Karl?”John, being John, didn’t think that had any other answer than the one he expected.

“Watch movies, obviously.” Karl, being Karl, got it. He didn’t even hesitate for a second and John suddenly felt this warm, tingly feeling that just spoke volumes for how much he already really liked this guy. This was the person behind the yelly monochrome type, the real pal who gave roundabout comfort to everyone and never expected anything back, and his best friend. John had been anxious for this moment, cueing up the playlist of what they’d watch if they finally met that he had been reworking for years. He could almost cry over how epic this was going to be.

“You should just admit my movies are better than romantic comedies now because I’m about to blow your mind. I kind of want to hear how right I am before you’re a babbling mess of awe over the epitome of mangrit that is Nick Cage but I guess I’ll take your sobs of worship as the sign of your defeated.” John began the task of migrating their snacks over to the end of the bed, facing the television set. They were going to need popcorn, maybe some pizza in a bit, but so far things were progressing well. Karl scoffed, following the bag of Cheetos over to seat himself next to the wall.

“I’m sorry, Egbert, I couldn’t understand what was coming out of your mouth there. All I heard was ‘herp derp I want to stick my tongue in every hole on a so called actor’s old man body, whose career continues an endless downward spiral yet still proceeds to grace cinema with his lacking, one note performances because assfaces like me enjoy handing out money to see the excrement he produces and smears across a screen’. Sorry about that.”

“So funny, Karl. You are the funniest person. It’s you.” John worked on bunching up his comforter and setting pillows for back support. Karl promptly horded the blanket and one out of two of the pillows. It was even the nice, still fluffy pillow; jeeze, his friend was a comfort hog. Just to make things even, John stripped the bedding off of Karl’s mattress and threw it on his side of the bed.

“I know. It’s difficult to maintain being this goddamn hilarious all the time just to pacify you. I hope you appreciate the efforts I go through in order to maintain this ruse of a friendship.” John didn’t like that Karl kept saying things as if they weren’t as close as they were. Or how close John had always thought they were. Maybe he had misinterpreted everything truthful and insulting as just a snarky sense of humour and sarcasm. Maybe Karl actually really did hate him, like how he’d often start or end their conversations by saying. The idea that they actually weren’t friends was kind of making his chest hurt in a weird way and he really couldn’t believe that the two of them weren’t star-crossed palhonchos.

There was no way there weren’t buddies. They had pestered one another on a near daily basis since they were thirteen years old. Karl was very aware of the block option Pesterchum had, but had never used it in the four years they had chatted. Sure, a lot of the time Karl raved about John being stupid, in many variations of the word, but there was a lot there beyond minor verbal abuse and foul language. It wasn’t just some superficial friendship like he felt he had with the people he knew from school. It was not some fleeting thing that would be gone as soon as they graduated. Karl really got him, really understood him, as much as he thought a person could without getting into background and general real life questions. John liked to think he got Karl too.

“You’re my best friend, Karl.” It was honest and to the point, and John felt that being true to himself and talking about kind of embarrassing, but important, things was the way to get through to the boy perched on the edge of his bed. Karl’s eyes widened, clearly surprised with a declaration that John hoped was totally obvious.

“Oh. Um, wow. Okay. I thought that was Strider?” The words stumbled from Karl’s mouth as if they were just filler in the conversation to give him more time to process. John took it though, since yeah, he probably should try to explain why it was Karl in the number one buddy slot and not Dave.

“Well, he’s one of my best friends, for sure! He’s my bro, but he really doesn’t get me like you. He’s so cool and, let’s face it here, I’m not a cool kid like him nor do I really try to be anymore, most of the time. Dave doesn’t like things like we do and if he does he likes them ironically. Not to say he doesn’t have my back, or that I don’t have his, because we’re still tight. But you and I have so many things in common—like programming, even though we’re both terrible at it, and biology because it’s amazing, movies, and even weird junk like eating bananas upside-down. We’re cut from the same cloth or mold or whatever. I know we’re just meeting face to face, but I wanted you to know how I think of you.” Karl just kind of stared at him for a good ten seconds of extremely awkward silence before sighing.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too. I think it’s an utter joke how much you resonate with me, John, but there it is.” And that was kind of beautiful. Their bromance had been established as mutual. They would be the measure of new age buddy relationships, on level with George Clooney and Brad Pitt, Ben Affleck and Matt Damon, or James T. Kirk and Spock. He almost let a single manly tear roll down his face, but felt a second would somehow follow no matter his control and crying about acknowledging an epic friendship with someone was kind of silly. So John’s cheeks remained tearless but he was nonetheless grinning so wide his cheeks hurt.

“John Egbert and Karl Vantas are officially best friends. I will tell the world.” He almost wanted to postpone movie night to tell his dad and then memo everyone about it. Gosh, memos were sure convenient to spam stuff at everyone all at once. It was no wonder Karl had banned the use of them being made by anyone but himself. Not that John wasn’t sure there were a few illegal memos floating around out there.

“I believe Strider is most likely part of the world at least some of the time and would heard the news if you’re intent on informing billions of people over us establishing that we have been and are currently friends. I’m guessing he’ll be sardonically pissed about me having an affair with his wife or something asinine like that. Actually, I’m almost positive that is what he’ll say, so there’s no need to inform him and for him to declare some kind of annoying as hell war on me where he raps about stealing you back before I can unpack. His hate is jet black. I won’t know jack ‘bout his angle of attack. Fuck rhyming, John.” John laughed even though Dave might actually throw down on Pesterchum about this. Getting junk spammed at you as soon as you came online, in a very passive-aggressive manner, did get annoying. John couldn’t actually remember what he had done to justify it the last time—it could have very well been nothing—but that was okay. Dave would get this, had already got why John spoke to Karl every day, had got why John felt so defensive over the other boy. But Dave would have to put on a show, to keep up appearances.

“Let him, bro. Nothing will come between us.”

 

Just as John had decided on the finalized movie order and had stacked the DVD boxes accordingly, there was knocked on the door to his room. It was a little bit confusing, because that’s how his dad knocked, which wouldn’t have been weird if it wasn’t three thirty in the afternoon and a weekday. Dad was always out until about half past five, though would sometimes come home for lunch at noon. So, it not being noon, this didn’t compute. As John was weighing which was more unlikely, someone breaking in who politely respects closed doors or his dad coming home early, the door opened slowly. Unless the burglar had a pretty wicked businessman disguise, that latter had just happened. This could only mean _things_ that would stall movie watching with his only friend who would put up with watching hours and hours of 90’s classics.

“Um, hi dad! You’re home pretty early today!” His dad stood in the doorframe, looking tired and a bit disappointed. Uh oh. That was never good. It was like the first time John made the executive decision to move every harlequin and clown related product into the largest closet in the house all over again.

“I wasn’t at work today, son. I’d like to talk to both of you about this.” John hesitated, knowing that this couldn’t be good news like he was going to stop baking cakes so often for he now understood the horrors of the batterwitch, finally. Dad took a seat at John’s desk, facing the two boys. John wanted to sling a reassuring arm around Karl as he fidgeted. He drew the pillow in his arms closer to his chest, hugging it tightly, eyes set down to the floor. He resisted, but only just. It was unfair that everything about him just screamed ‘ _cuddle me relentlessly_ ’ yet touching was not allowed. They were going to have some amateur psychology sessions with Rose in the very near future if Karl kept exuding hazardous levels of ‘ _hug me_ ’ vibes.

“Alright dad, the suspense is kind of killing me. What’s up?” John started lightly, trying to take away some of the pressure weighing the air in his room down. He could just tell this was going to be serious and derail all of the afternoon’s plans of doing nothing but watching movies.

“At the hospital, we had to contact Karl’s social worker for Karl’s medical care information. I believe the young lady has lost her job for placing Karl in an unsuitable, not to mention abusive, home, and the foster care agency Karl is a part of has assigned someone new to Karl’s case after consolidating with The Department of Health and Social Services. We have been attempting to sort this out in the best way possible since this early morning. Essentially, what we’ve done by taking Karl in is called an Unlicensed Placement and, due to the situation being an emergency, was done so in his best interest. However, without the Area Administers approval prior to taking Karl in or, certain conditions being met to make sure he will be safe, what we have doing is illegal. Essentially, Karl is not allowed to stay here yet.” John’s stomach sunk and felt well on its way to leaving his body entirely. Karl drew even further in on himself, fingers twisting in the pillow’s fabric. But the final words his dad had spoken gave him home: _yet_. Yet meant dad still wanted to take Karl in.

“How do we make it legal then, dad?” His dad nodded his head towards Karl, a look of concern in his eyes. John followed the look, taking in how absolutely miserable the boy’s posture read. “Hey, Karl, hey. It’s going to be okay. Am I allowed to, uh, rub your back or something?” It felt weird, asking for the permission, but it was something he’d probably have to get use to. The ‘or something’ came in the form of his right hand dropping from the pillow, blindly searching out John’s. John shifted his a little closer, watching as the fingers hesitated against his skin before desperately twisted together with his, as if that was enough to keep them together.

“A background check is in the process already and a home study must be done to assure this house is safe, which will be done tomorrow. John, you will also be required to have your record checked and be interviewed during the study. Please call in to work and explain the situation. I need to ask you each a question before we proceed any further: John, could you come with me for a moment?” John was a bit torn. Getting up and following his dad to speak in private meant letting go of Karl’s hand, but staying would mean Karl hearing whatever it was that was meant for John’s ears only. Not wanting to risk that, John slowly unwound his fingers from that shaking grip.

“I’ll be right back, Karl,” he whispered softly to the other boy before heading out the door with his dad. Before closing the door behind them, John glanced back to the balled up form of his friend. His heart broke just a little bit more when he heard the shaky sigh Karl must have been holding back. He had been trying not to cry the entire time and John just wanted to rush back in and coddle him. His dad led them a little ways down the hall, still too serious and too tired.

“John, I want to be sure that you understand what it is I’m trying to do. This is not just about you meeting a friend from the internet. This is about taking someone into our home who has not only been abused physically, but mentally, for a great deal of time. It will take a lot of work to have this boy open up to us, while you may wish for him to instantly be someone you can just have fun with. This will not be easy, and I want to make sure you know what we are getting into with this. So John, I want you to honestly answer me; are you sure?”

“Dad, I don’t even know how you can ask me that, because you should know my answer. This is my best friend, even if we haven’t seen each other face to face for very long, that doesn’t change the person he’s been for the last four years. I want him here and safe and away from all the terrible things he has told me about and all the things he hasn’t. I really think him being here will make him happy. I really think I, we, can help him, here, right now.” John paused, taking in his father. The shirt and tie of a salary man, the pipe held between his fingers void of any contents for a year, the downright impossibly cool fedora hat, and the look of pride in his eyes as he watched his son. “I get that this is well beyond giving him a place to sleep, I get that this means pretty much adopting Karl and that this isn’t going to be just movie watching and junk food even though I really wish it was. But maybe one day it can be, because I really believe we’re the people to help him. Is this okay with you, dad?”

“Of course it is, son.” A hand pressed on his shoulder as that confident businessman smiled down at him. They both knew things weren’t going to be easy from here on out. John mourned the loss of perfect movie night but the same time felt excited to make a difference in the life of someone he genuinely cared about. He knew if it was him in this situation—that if he had been adopted by someone other than his dad when he was young, and was hurt and scared—Karl would do everything he could to help him too.

“I want you to know how much I respect you for what you’re doing, because it’s a whole lot,” John said, overlapping his hand on the one on his shoulder. His dad just nodded, a bit misty eyed and, if he was being totally honest, John was pretty misty eyed himself. It was a big near-tear fest out in the hallway and John had to take a second to make sure he wasn’t going to choke on his words. “Can we go back in?” With a nod of approval, John pretty much jogged to his door and didn’t stop until he was seated next to his friend again.

When he sunk down back into his place, Karl turned his head out from the protection of the pillow, red eyes looked questionably into his, teeth worrying at the poor split lip. They really had to have words about Karl not indulging in that apparent nervous habit until it was healed. How long did it take for that, maybe about a week? The swelling and bruising around his right eye would probably be gone by then too. The thought of just how much more stupid pretty Karl was going to be when that black eye healed crossed John’s mind, which he promptly shoved aside when fingers curled around his hand again. Karl wasn’t looking at him anymore, but at his socks, red staining his cheeks in an already familiar way.

Dad walked in a few seconds later, what John took to be an amused expression now evident on his face as he watched the two boys. He stopped in front of Karl, dropping to one knee to look up at him. Karl was glaring again, defensive in every way, betrayed only by the small tremors running through his hand. And John knew he was terrified, even if he just looked angry. He gently moved his and Karl’s hand so he could twine their fingers together, hoping the gesture communicated how much he was there for him. It was a little weird to hold hands like this. His palm felt way too hot and sweaty, but so did Karl’s, so he shrugged it off as the normal dynamic of the action. His hand felt a little gross, whatever. Some of that heat was transferring to his face, big deal.

“Karl.” Karl looked to John’s dad sharply, though the look quickly faltered with the following words. “I can in no way guarantee this outcome and can only give you my word that I will do everything I can to assure that you are safe. However, I need to know before we go any further. Do you want to be part of this family, Karl?” There was a slight hitch in Karl’s breathing, that take-on-the-fucking-world look changing into one much more suiting that timid hand. He actually looked pretty sad or like he was in a lot of pain, but he nodded his answer with such conviction.

“I want to be here. I want to be here, with John.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I was deleting a draft and but actually I was deleting everything. Goodbye all my beautiful comments. I will now sob deeply over losing you.
> 
> So new chapter. Better late than never. It seems helping to build a house kind of sucks away a lot of free time. Ah well. I will be glad when things move out of the ‘Important I Have To Look Up’ category into the ‘Teenage Boys Making Out’ category. I’m getting the bulk of my information on foster care from the Washington State’s DSHS’s Practices and Procedures Guide in the Children’s Administration section off of their website. Not the easiest read. This serious element of an otherwise eventual comedic story will probably continue on with some artistic license. In other news, I can’t stop listening to Suzie McNeil’s Drama Queen. Karl, this is your song. Embrace it.


	5. In Which Karl Vantas Gets All Dolled Up

At four thirty in the afternoon, Karl was in the back of a car which was driving away from the one place in the world he really wanted to be, leaving behind the one person in the word who didn’t see him as a complete failure. Except maybe it was two now, because for whatever reason Mr. Egbert was putting in more than his fair share of effort for the grand prize of a terrible burden. Behind door number one, another mouth to feed, a mouth that was moving more often than not, filled to the brim with profanities and insults that really didn’t filter. Door number two had the defensive aversion to any closeness, be it physical or otherwise, which had started after his real dad went off the deep end and had only escaladed. Behind door number three—fucking wide open with how obvious it was, with a huge neon arrow pointing to it—was the enormous amount of non-platonic feelings he had for Mr. Egbert’s son. Unless the father was just as clueless, there was no way he could have missed the way Karl blushed forever around John. Mr. Egbert got all those door prizes, and for what? To foster an obnoxious, apprehensive, terrified teenager who was repressing the growing urge to press his lips to John’s lips for as long as they possible could. It was stupid and made no sense.

Karl absently wondered what the record for the longest kiss was. It was probably something ridiculous like two days, because people often took things too far for no better reason than to get their fifteen minutes. John would probably sync up the kissing with a terrible movie marathon, which would ruin whatever kind of mood there was to bring up the challenge in the first place.

“So how do you know the Egberts, Karl?” Karl jumped, immediately feeling guilty and a little terrible about what he had been thinking. In the driver’s seat was his new social worker, whose name somehow escaped him. It wasn’t really all his fault that when he introduced himself, John was nearly weeping after handing Karl a decrepit stuffed bunny. Liv Tyler—the bunny, because John had a perfectly normal infatuation with the actress and would cuddle a diseased plush animal if it had her name—was half purple knit, half stained beyond all reason, and entirely tear jerking in its sentimentality. Dave had sent it to John on his thirteenth birthday, a relic of John’s favourite movie of all time. It had circulated through Rose and Jade before ultimately coming back to John. The bunny was absolutely disgusting and falling apart in more than one place. Karl cradled it with his good arm, recalling John making him a promise that, when Karl moved in, he needed to give her back. Until then he was to keep her safe because the bunny was his treasure. “Mr. Egbert told me you are close with John.”

“Not that it’s any of your business who John is to me, or that you’re talking about them like you all do lunch every Wednesday or something but— fuck. Way to go, Karl, just keep talking yourself further into a hole here, it’s not like you’re not in deep enough already. What’s a few more metres now anyways? I’m hoping to reach the core of the earth sometime before next week, so I have to keep to schedule. I mean, this is your business. It’s exactly your business to know the details of my stupid little life and I’m pretty much sabotaging my chances of living somewhere where people might be able to deal with me.” Karl squeezed a fist full of bunny ear before realizing that might cause the thing to fall apart in his lap. He settled for digging his nails into his palm. “He’s a friend. That makes it sound less than it is, but the alternative is just so juvenile I may as well enroll back into primary school, except that was a rather dark time for me, so I’d rather not. Since I often contradict what I say, John’s my best friend and I have no idea how I’m his because he’s pretty much a fucking perfect human being.”

“How long have you known him?” Whatever his name was looked in the rear-view mirror back at Karl, who repressed the desire to give him the finger and tell him to stop talking before he said anything else that could compromise his move. Instead he sat nicely, not texting John back even when he could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket, ready to answer any questions the social worker came up with. “When I got your file I didn’t see any mention him.”

“Since I was thirteen. I’m online a lot, as I’m sure you’ve read accompanied by a note on how it’s probably to do with me trying to escape reality or some other equally as true psychobabble bullshit. Here’s the breakdown. For the most part, the only friends I have I hadn’t actually ever seen until this afternoon. There’s fifteen people I talk to, less than half that I can actually stand for any period of time, and one who I talk to every single fucking day for hours because we both apparently have nothing better to do. That would be John.”

“He doesn’t happen to be the person you refer to as ‘EB’, does he?” Karl swallowed hard, because this man who he just met knew. When the monthly check ups came around to each foster home he had been in, and when hehad been feeling open enough to actually talk about what he was feeling instead of just punching walls and acting out, Karl would talk about ‘EB’. The letters didn’t mean anything to the social workers who came to see him, but bringing the piece of his online life into a normal conversation made it seem more real. He slipped up, once he even broke down, because it was _so hard and no one understood_ what it was to be him: orphaned, bulled, and as in love as a thirteen year old could be, with someone he wasn’t even sure was who he said he was.

He blubbered to them, broken down into a weeping heap that they saw as potential because they could fret and coo over someone crying. That side of him rarely had a chance, as they would poke and prod his feelings until he felt worse about what they meant than before he let them out. The social workers found anger and bite near impossible to break ground on, as sharing time was a bit difficult when he was telling them to go to hell in the most creative ways he could think of. He couldn’t do that now, not when so much was riding on this initial meeting.

“I can’t even remember how much I said about him. I know for a fact it was too much and mostly sappy dribble about how much I thought about him, even when he was only just type on a screen, a world away from me. I’m better with it now. I’m glad to have John as a friend, even if that means not being something more than that.”

“I can’t presume to know if it’s in the same way, but he obviously cares about you. I’d like for you to live with the Egberts, and have recommended this to go through. With Mr. Egbert being an adoptive parent, he has met certain criteria already. But you know that we need to be careful and make sure that that is a suitable environment for you specifically, and that takes time. We don’t want anything to happen to you.” Karl might have snapped at that last comment, as something had already happened to him in case the social worker hadn’t taken a look at his extensive injuries. But instead his eyes widened—the right little more than a slit, as far as the still swollen lid would allow—with the new information. This man actually wanted to put him in the house with the object of his affection, who was apparently adopted. John had never mentioned that before and it explained the lack of family resemblance; John definitely did not have Mr. Egbert’s rather prominent nose. He and John had more in common than he previously thought.

“I just want to be with John, and not necessarily how you might take that statement what with reading a few dozen pages of my life. That is, unless he somehow switches which gender he finds attractive so we can skip into the setting sun together in classic movie ending glory. That’s pretty fucking gay even by my standards, but I am a romantic through and through so I need to go all out on this magical scenario that will never happen. I just want to be around him because he’s the only person who really fucking gets me, even if he’s the most clueless individual both the online and offline world has ever seen. He just gets down into my center and refuses to vacate.”

“How did the two of you meet?” The social worker probed further, a perfect aloof tone to his voice while he was probably making mental notes: Vantas exhibits his homosexual fawning for John Egbert with disdain for his friend’s sexuality, explore this. Karl thought he might have been trying to prevent him from counting the minutes as they drove further and further away. Maybe ten so far, but they just kept driving so he was losing hope that this new house would be just around the block. A foster home could be in the same city, on the other side of the state, or even across the country, depending on the kid and depending on where a place was available. Karl didn’t want to think that he would be shipped away from someone who wanted to take him in, but it could take weeks, even months for things to be finalized.

“Is this twenty questions about my adolescent feelings for and all things related to John Egbert? We met in a chat room for something ridiculous with Mathew Mcconaughey—actually, it was How To Lose a Guy In Ten Days, which should have higher ratings all around because that is a quality way to enjoy one hundred and sixteen minutes—that he appallingly didn’t like because there were no gun fights or slow motion explosions. I told him his taste was making me physically ill and that I urged him to partake in sucking a bag of dicks in fifteen hundred or more words and we’ve been friends ever since. How he puts up with me, I don’t really know.”

“Well, that’s certainly a unique way to start out any relationship.” Karl exhaled sharply though his nose, the only form of agreement the man was going to get. There was a lull in the conversation which Karl used to check his phone. It had buzzed quite the number of times in the last ten minutes, and he was pretty sure work had given up on him calling them back for the day. With that contact ticked off the list that left only one possible culprit.

_karl, are you and liv getting along?  
hehe i bet you’re totally hugging her  
are you at your foster home yet?  
guess not. text me when you get there!  
actually, come on, text me in the car. it’s not like your driving.  
dude. are you ignoring me to be mean?  
don’t be like this, karl!  
dad wants to say something, actually.  
he says ‘we will do everything in our power to get the permission to have you stay with us.’ which we will, you know, in case you didn’t get that from when you were here._

Karl read through the nine separate text messages—which were fragmented thoughts rather than thought out sentences—almost one for every minute they had been apart. It might have embarrassed him if he didn’t find it so sickeningly sweet how much John was fussing over him. He might have even smiled just a little bit, mostly on the inside, but that small quirk of his lips could have just been a sudden twitch. He typed his response out.

_EGBERT. IT’S LIKE I’M THE ONLY ONE YOU CAN POSSIBLY BOTHER AT THIS TIME OF DAY, EXCEPT ALL OF OUR COLLECTIVE CHUMS ARE PROBABLY WAITING FOR YOU TO PESTER THEM BECAUSE THEY WERE STILL ALL THERE WHEN I LEFT. THEY ARE FEELING NEGLECTED WITH ALL THIS EXCESS ATTENTION YOU’RE READILY THROWING IN MY GENERAL DIRECTION. I’M SURE STRIDER IS WISE TO OUR ESTABLISHED BEST FRIENDSHIP AND HAS ALREADY LINED UP A SERIES OF YOUTUBE VIDEOS TO BOMBARD YOU WITH. ENJOY. AND I WOULD NEVER IGNORE YOU, I WAS JUST BUSY TRYING NOT TO FUCK UP IN FRONT OF THIS NEW SOCIAL WORKER. NOW SHUT UP._

“Who are you talking to?” Said social worker asked.

“John.” Karl thought that would be obvious by now. His phone vibrated instantly on his lap, the response in a few parts again. No, a few insinuated three, this was several. There were five messages in response to a call for him to do the world a favour and rest his overworked mouth-hole. Well, it was fingers in this case, but his point had been made.

_karl. i will not shut up. i am smiling so much right now.  
not only do you text in one huge block of type too, but you said we’re best friends.  
that just...  
gosh!  
makes me really happy! :B_

Karl was thankful John wasn’t there to catch the flare of his cheeks, though the social worker did glance back at him for a moment. The man had the audacity to laugh at him over something he long since realized he couldn’t control, especially when it came to John. He had harboured a one sided crush to the only person who wouldn’t notice it. Sometimes he thought outright rejection would be better, but that meant losing the friendship that he begrudgingly found kept him going. Even with what he had gone through, Karl had never thought ending his own life was valid an option: it would make John sad, it would piss a couple of his other friends off, and he was too much of a coward to see it through. An afterlife or reincarnation or rotting in the ground free from pain didn’t weigh at all against talking to John every day, despite how the rest of the day could be miserable. It really was all just shits and giggles.

_WOULD YOU RATHER ME TYPE OUT EVERY SENTENCE?  
LIKE THIS?  
THE CONSTANT BUZZ OF TEXT MESSAGES IN YOUR POCKET.  
EVERY TIME YOU THINK I’M DONE TALKING AND PUT AWAY YOUR PHONE, TWO MORE LINES.  
IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?  
YOU BROUGHT THIS ON YOURSELF._

The replay was neigh instant. John must have been poised with his fingers on his phone, just waiting for whatever pointless scroll of words Karl sent to him. Karl could imagine him now that blue text had been replaced by a real person: that cheerful face set in determination, his glasses slipping further down the bridge of his nose as his head angled down to phone, a flicker of tongue darting to wet pink lips— _fuck_. He shouldn’t be left alone with an image of John burning in his mind; it would only end with him feeling extraordinarily in the wrong over using it.

_as long as you’re talking to me, i’m happy!_

Karl’s fingers froze over the keys, reading and re-reading the simple statement. It was words like that that could destroy his world. Words like that made the impossible thought resurface: _he might feel the same way about me as I do about him_. Ultimately, the only thing those words and thoughts achieved was getting Karl’s already detrimental hopes up. He’d prompt it all the same, poke and see where the words would go. He’d be damned if he didn’t admit how the feeling was mutual, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to say how happy he was to have John there to listen.

 

The remainder of the drive consisted of texting John while answering the few questions the social worker had in between messages. They pulled up to a house not half an hour from where John lived in Maple Valley, in the opposite direction of his previous foster home. It was a pretty large stand alone house, with a front yard filled with blooming flowers, neatly trimmed shrubbery and a white picket fence separating it from its neighbour’s. It seemed like a nice little symbol of middle-class life. A lot of the homes on the block also seemed nice, and it was an all around nice little slice of suburbia. Karl didn’t find emergency foster homes to have any relation to that word, so he grit his teeth and reminded himself of how Mr. Egbert was doing everything he could to take him in. It made the steady growing panic ease.

He wanted so badly to avoid being introduced to the two people who encourage him to address them by whatever made him most comfortable, preferably by their first names or ‘mom’ and ‘dad’. He bit the inside of his cheek before he could offer something a bit more colourful and insulting, as that would probably make him the most comfortable. He was sick of being presented to people who smiled at him like he was some pitiful broken child they could fix in what little time they had. If they couldn’t fix him, they could just return him, so whatever method they felt was best would be tried. At seventeen, it was almost laughable that they expected him to confide in them. He had almost aged out of the system, had a job, and had graduated high school—he wasn’t that frightened ten year old who latched on to the first people who offered him comfort because he had just lost his real dad to a freak accident and none of his remaining family wanted him. There was little optimism left in him now and what was there was in reserve for people with the last name Egbert.

Karl sat down at the dining room table with the temporary foster parents and the social worker to once again go over why Karl was going to be staying there. They were all smiles, laughs and concerned glances at the arm in the black sling and the just as black eye. Karl sized up the father and decided that even if the slight man was a violent drunk he could most likely take him, even with the broken arm. The man smiled when he caught Karl mentally going through the scenario of having to fight him; Karl tried to look intimidating but, when he shifted to adjust his posture, his back connected with the chair. He hissed a breath through his teeth, realizing he really should have taken another T3 before leaving John’s. There was too much rushing to get an icepack on his back and his medication from the little case Mr. Egbert had put it in to carry. While things were being taken care of, the social worker briefly went over his injury list, which caused even more fussing. All the while Karl insisted he was fine, he was fine and they should stop fucking touching him.

It seemed like they were talking there for hours when it was really less than one. Karl wanted to abandon the conversation and shut himself in whatever corner closet they were going to give him for a room. The wife, Anne, asked if there was anything he couldn’t eat and, when Karl said he could cook his own meals as he was used to doing, she insisted that she enjoyed cooking for people. The husband, Gilbert, asked if Karl played any sports and Karl wondered out loud if getting beat up was considered a sport. If it was, he should have won awards by now, because he was really very good at it. Everyone shut their mouths for a good minute after that.

Eventually, he was taken upstairs to a quite spacious guest room that he hadn’t expected to be filled with a few boxes of his things. The social worker—Karl still hadn’t managed to catch the man’s name, even when he introduced himself to the couple—explained that they had only taken the necessities from his previous foster home. Karl was glad that he had given them the go ahead to do that whenever he had to be suddenly moved, since he wasn’t the type to get touchy over his things like some of the foster kids he had met over the years. He was allowed to go back to the other home tomorrow to get the rest of his stuff, but he’d need to call and set up a time. Clearly he wasn’t just allowed to go in and take his junk unsupervised, especially in a place that might be considered traumatic. With a time was set in the afternoon, Karl was finally left alone.

After digging through his boxes of mostly clothes, he was amazed that someone had had the foresight to drop in not only his phone but laptop charger. Once he located a plug, both were merrily sucking up electricity to recharge their all but drained batteries. With his plans for the evening taken care of, Karl lay on his bed for all of five minutes before something so completely obvious it almost physically hurt dawned on him. John was still less than half an hour away, John owned a car and was a capable driver, and Karl actually was starting to miss him despite being apart for less than two hours.

It was almost disgusting how quickly he had opened his laptop, turned it on, and logged in to Pesterchum.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 18:12! -- 

CG: EGBERT. THOUGH IT PAINS ME TO GIVE YOU ANY KIND OF CONTROL OVER MY EVENING, DO YOU WANT TO GO SEE A MOVIE OR SOMETHING? NO ONE SAID ANYTHING ABOUT US NOT SEEING EACH OTHER THROUGH THIS PROCESS, THOUGH I’M NOT TO GO OVER TO YOUR HOUSE FOR OBVIOUS REASONS. SINCE YOU HAVE A CAR AND I’M OTHERWISE STRANDED TWENTY-SOMETHING MINUTES FROM YOUR HOUSE, I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO CHOOSE.

Karl stared at his own text. That had really sounded like he was asking John out. He had just asked John Egbert on what was essentially an activity normally done on dates, with him, alone. Dating people went to see movies or something at seven which was prime dating time. Granted, Thursday didn’t really strike him as a good date night, but most people their age said hell with conventionality once the summer had begun. He fought back the desire to snap his laptop shut and just go the fuck to sleep.

EB: you had better not be typing with both hands. And okay, sure! i’d like that, karl. is it weird to miss you already?

“God, don’t fucking say that, John,” Karl groaned into his hand, almost regretting that he was going to see the cause of his embarrassment shortly.

CG: THAT’S PROBABLY REALLY FUCKING WEIRD, EGBERT. IT’S BEEN A COUPLE OF HOURS AND WE’VE BEEN ALTERNATING BETWEEN TEXTING AND TALKING THE ENTIRE TIME. THERE WAS NO SPAN OF TIME TO EVEN MISS ONE ANOTHER, YET IT HAPPENED ANYWAYS. WHY DO YOU THINK I EVEN SUGGESTED HANGING OUT? SO ARE YOU COMING OVER OR NOT?   
EB: ugh, duh i’m coming over!  
EB: you always say such sweet things! my cheeks are getting a workout from smiling this much.  
EB: just give me a few minutes to get ready and i’ll be on my way.   
CG: OKAY. I’LL TEXT YOU THE ADDRESS AND I GUESS I’LL SEE YOU SOON.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--

Half an hour gave Karl plenty of time to panic. Did he dress up for seeing John? Did he even have clothes to dress up in? Would it be weird when they were just friends, to have him trying to impress the other boy by not looking like a mess? There was that black military styled jacket that Kaya had made him which would probably be casual enough for hanging out but dressy enough to catch John’s eye, if he was even looking. With the jacket found, it was just the rest of him that needed work. And he was still flipping out about what it even meant.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering gallowsCalibrator [GC] at 18:25! -- 

CG: THEORETICALLY AND COMPLETELY UNRELATED TO MY CURRENT SITUATION, IF SOMEONE ASKED IF SOMEONE ELSE WANTED TO GO TO THE MOVIES AND THEY ENTHUSIASTICALLY AGREED TO GO AFTER COMMENTING THAT SOMEONE HAD SAID SOMETHING SWEET, DOES THAT CONSTITUTE A DATE?   
GC: SO YOU F1N4LLY 4SK3D JOHN OUT??   
CG: WOW. THAT’S NOT WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT AT ALL. THEORETICALLY IS A WORD THAT ACTUALLY MEANS SOMETHING. IT MEANS THAT QUESTION IS COMPLETELY UNRELATED TO ME AND MY CURRENT RUSHING TO FIND SOMETHING HALF DECENT TO WEAR IN ALL THESE FUCKING BOXES WHILE PESTERING MY EX ONLINE GIRLFRIEND. YOU KNOW WHAT, I ANSWERED MY OWN QUESTION. NO, IT’S NOT A DATE, BECAUSE SOMEONE AND SOMEONE ELSE ARE BOTH MEN, AND SOMEONE ELSE DOESN’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT HOW SOMEONE FEELS. DONE. YOU WERE NOT HELPFUL IN THE SLIGHTEST.   
GC: 1 DONT KNOW 1F 1TS 4 D4T3 OR NOT  
GC: BUT YOU TWO H4V3 4LW4YS G1V3N OFF TH4T V1B3   
CG: WHAT VIBE ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? JOHN DOESN’T GIVE OFF ANY VIBE OTHER THAN BEING OVERLY FRIENDLY AND ATTACHED TO PEOPLE. HE’S LIKE THAT TO EVERYONE.    
GC: NOP3 TH3R3S 4LSO 4 V1B3  
GC: >:]

Karl didn’t even log out while he scrambled to throw some kind of outfit together, he just left the messaging service running in case Teri cared to elaborate on what exactly the ‘vibe’ Egbert gave off was. He really had wanted her to flat out dash his dreams by saying it wasn’t a date. He had wanted her to flat out say what he already knew, that Egbert was as straight as an arrow and would never have eyes for anyone sans chesticles. Trust Teri to be vague and not give him a real answer though. He really shouldn’t have tried her but didn’t have enough time to ask for the opinion of someone a bit more stable.

He found a black and white Adele band t-shirt that was relatively new and not yet faded. The design had a photo of the singer in the words ‘Rolling In The Deep’ with her name in green under it. Okay, that was his torso taken care of, for the most part. Light grey pants were fished out from another box, which really didn’t need the belt he slung around his waist since they were sort of snug. He didn’t want to go digging around to locate other jeans that weren’t tattered, so he stuck with the grey. Why had he even bought them? Oh, he hadn’t. Kaya had. That or she had made them; he wasn’t too sure on the origin. Since he was already travelling down the things-Kaya-donated rout, he slipped on a button down shirt and a stupid red hipster tablecloth scarf, since he was feeling fashionable. Glancing at the mirror, he realized Eric would probably wear something like this. Eric or a pirate. Fuck it, he was already dressed and wasn’t changing now. It was enough of a pain trying to get clothes on with his cast, he wasn’t going to keep try on a bunch of things to see what looked best.

Karl had just put on his cleanest pair of sneakers when he heard the doorbell ring. He ran a brush through his hair in record time, slipped his jacket on through his right arm while letting the left side perch precariously on his shoulder, and located his wallet before rushing out of his room. He was just in time to hear John greet Anne as she answered the front door.

“Um, hi! Haha, I’m here to pick up Karl. I promise I won’t keep him out too late! Uh, is ten too late, or is that good?” Karl didn’t feel so weird after he saw John had changed out of the clothes he had been wearing early that day. His outfit of choice consisted of a dark green jacket, pair of navy jeans, very red shoes and a black t-shirt with his stupid Japanese ghost worm thing on the chest. Karl walked down the stairs, trying to ignore the eyes on him. He probably should have run his plans by Anne, but sue him for being too busy with freaking out over stupid emotions.

“Egbert, what are you even saying? You’re acting like you’re talking to the disapproving parents of the girl you finally worked the nerves to ask out,” he said, as he reached the door, kind of wanting John to take the hint at what this seemed like. The boy grinned suavely and sort of leaned on the door frame.

“Sorry I didn’t bring flowers. I guess you’ll just have to settle with me.” Anne was looking in between the two of them while Karl’s heart almost exploded and John continued to look far too pleased with himself. That had sounded far too much like flirting and that was fucking dangerous to Karl’s health.

“You are being so ridiculous I’d like to pretend I don’t know you.”

“Oh, come on! Maybe I’m trying to be ridiculous. Ever thought of that? Think you’re so smart, jeeze. Hey, uh, you look good.” John’s eyes flicked up and down and oh god, for someone who was straight he really was playing up this whole not-a-date outing. “Um, in that jacket! Haha. So you got your stuff?” Karl was only just aware that Anne was still right there, waiting for some kind of explanation.

“Some of it. I have my clothes folded incorrectly in some boxes and they said I can go with them tomorrow to get the rest.” Karl quickly addressed the women before John could open his beautiful mouth again and distract him. “Uh, Anne, is it alright if I head out for a bit?”

“Of course, just try to be home before midnight. Have fun, you two.” She fucking winked at him. Goddamn it. Did everyone just know about his unnatural crush? Karl rationalized that that was sort of an important detail when placing someone like him in a family. Finding a foster parent who would accept a non-heterosexual was necessary, since they were supposed to be an open, caring environment. Not that that had gone well the last time. Previous foster dad was not okay with it, despite saying he was. Karl had started to think his name was ‘Faggot’ with how often he had been addressed as such.

“Did Kaya make that for you?” John asked while they walked down the driveway to his car.

“Still transfixed on the coat? Yeah, she did. I’m surprised it fits as well as it does, considering when she asked me for my measurements I told her small or medium. She nearly had an aneurism over the fact I wouldn’t take a tape measure to every inch of my body. I’m pretty sure she made the pants too, the shirt, and the scarf thing was a gift. I’m sure her mission to cloth Captor will distract from her previous goal to cloth me.”

“It really suits you.” John brushed his fingers over one of the buttons on the breast before opening the passenger side door for Karl. That was not okay. Touching a guy’s chest and following classic date etiquette was not okay. Acts of old fashioned chivalry were romantic as fuck. So while John held open the door, Karl froze as his brain short-circuited. It took a second for him to reboot and figure out what the hell he was going to do about this. Fine. Just fine. If John was going to thoughtlessly flirt with him without realizing he was flirting, Karl might as well enjoy it. This was going to be the best not-a-date date ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I be sleeping? Yes. Did I decide to finish this chapter instead? Also yes. I am pretty much full on in love with everyone on here and will keep on writing because I can’t say no to you, beautiful collective of internet people. Am I going to do the little less than three hearts to you? You bet your sweet behind I’m going to. Only two though. I have to play hard to get or something. <3 <3


	6. In Which John Egbert Really Isn't On a Kind of Date, Really

John nervously chewed on his lower lip as he drove, which was stupid because there was absolutely nothing to be nervous about. Karl was sitting in the passenger seat, humming absently along to some upbeat poppy song he probably also knew all the lyrics to. They had just reunited after an unfathomable, unbearable couple of hours apart and there should have been no room for anything other than happiness when he knocked on the door to Karl’s temporary foster home. But then Karl had walked down the stairs, dressed to the nines like he had someone to impress. Maybe that’s how Karl always dressed though, because John only knew two days of Karl and both had been hard. If this was anything to go by, when he had said he dressed like an average slob he had been severely underestimating himself again. He looked like some kind of trendy buccaneer scene kid, in all the best ways.

They may have ignored the women who had answered the door—she seemed really nice based on how she was just smiling there, and John was pretty glad Karl’s foster mom would most likely be a good person to him until he and his dad sorted things out—but John had been so busy wrapped up in Karl being too snarky for someone so sensitive to say much of anything to her. For someone watching, their worlds must have sounded weird and a tad overly friendly. Only slightly. Actually, to be perfectly honest, they exchanged some dialogue that John was still surprised came out of his mouth.

After they left the house and John opened the car door for Karl—earning him a pause of hesitation and an equally as long look—they were in the car and heading to the nearest theatre in Issaquah. And there it was again, the nervousness that he thought had disappeared, back and coupled with a quiet, insistent nagging that he shouldn’t even be as happy as he thought he should be. John’s eyes flicked to the side, catching and lingering before his brain insisted on at least trying to get them to the Regal Theatre without crashing into something first. He couldn’t help but look back once he scanned the road in front of him.

Karl was sort of whispering the song under his breath now, warm and wispy like the breeze rolling in the summer evening through the open window. His hair was caught in the wind, being tossed into a lazy style that was either dashingly roguish or extreme bed head. But Karl didn’t care what it looked like and couldn’t even believe how pretty he really was, especially right now. John shivered—he didn’t even think he was cold!—which prompted him to want to ask his friend to close the window, but he _couldn’t_. Not when Karl was staring out at the blue sky, still bright with it being an hour or two away from dusk, while he sang just because he wanted to.

He didn’t know what to do, or say, or how to stop feeling unnecessarily nervous about whatever it was he was nervous about. It was during this kind of emotional turmoil when he would usually pester Dave, who was always there to tell him to calm his tits. But since texting while driving was not a good idea, not to mention probably totally illegal, John had to deal with it.

“So,” John started conversationally when Karl was done harmonizing with Katy Perry. Any hope to follow that with something witty or funny vanished when Karl turned, still leaning on the window frame. John really shouldn’t have looked. One side of Karl’s mouth quirked at the corner and John was torn between hoping he never smirked like that again or smirked like that all the time.

“You said you missed me, John?” John kind of didn’t know how to answer that! He said he had on Pesterchum, but real life Karl was looking at him expectantly for the confirmation. Red eyes suddenly widened as his friend’s body went ridged. “Fuck, watch the road!” John jumped back to reality just in time to stop at a very red light. The car behind him honked in irritation at the sudden break and he was pretty lucky there hadn’t been one was in front of him. He was pretty sure his dad would not be proud of him rear ending someone. No harm done! When he turned his head Karl wasn’t looking at him anymore. Karl wasn’t going to chew him out for being a terrible driver or something because he was bent forward, covering his face in his hands and John knew that the reaction spurred for something more than just stopping a little fast. “Fuck you. Fuck you, John. Pull over.”

“Karl, wha-” He started but was swiftly cut off by a glare of watery eyes. He had made Karl cry, again. Again! John was starting to feel like he was the worst friend what with how much of their time together was spent letting Karl just cry because he didn’t know what to do to make it stop.

“Pull this rust heap over for one fucking minute so I can at least hyperventilate without you trying to get us killed.” Even though he sounded angry, spat words with his favourite profanity nestled midway through his sentence like normal, his entire body was shaking. John wanted so badly to reach out and pull his friend into his arms, rub his back and tell him whatever had made him upset would never happen again. But he couldn’t touch him without making things even worse and he couldn’t pretend to know what this was about. So instead of trying something productive, John just pulled over to the curb after the light changed to green and sat with one arm part way to Karl, hovering between their seats and not sure where to go.

“Karl, please tell me what’s wrong. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention. Oh gosh, I’m sorry, please don’t cry.” It took a little while but Karl was eventually did stop shuttering and, after scrubbing at his eyes, he focused his attention out the front window. His body twisted to awkwardly reach for John’s hand, which John was happy to supply. Emotional support hand holding was one step closer to emotional support hugs. Why did John want to hug his friend so much? Jeeze! Karl had enough emotions for the two of them and he really didn’t need to be adding his own meaningless confusion into the mess of stuff going on. At least he didn’t feel quite so nervous with his fingers wrapped around Karl’s.

“It wasn’t raining, it wasn’t some an ungodly hour of the night, it was just a Wednesday afternoon in the middle of summer,” Karl started slowly, his voice a carefully guarded monotone. John was about to voice his inquiry as to what he was talking about when Karl looked at him with those pretty eyes rimmed in red from tears that left tracks down his cheeks. “I’m telling you what’s wrong, fuckass; you asked for it.”John could only sit there, mouth opening and closing a few times without finding a thing he could possibly say. Karl continued levelly after he waited in vain for John to do something. “It was my fifth birthday. We were heading to the beach and mom had this huge floppy sunhat that I begged to try on, so she passed it back to me and I was just thrilled out of my head to wear it. It was too big, obviously, so it covered my eyes but I laughed and laughed like an idiot because it was just so huge and it smelt like her perfume. Honeysuckle. She loved honeysuckle. The truck came out of nowhere.”

John sucked in a breath, squeezing Karl’s hand tightly because he knew the accident Karl was telling him about hadn’t ended well. If it had and everyone was fine, Karl wouldn’t have been in foster care, wouldn’t have gotten beaten by a drunk foster parent and wouldn’t have to hide behind being angry all the time. So John braced himself for the worst, hating that he almost expected it.

“Dad slammed on the breaks, but there was nothing he could do. There wasn’t enough time to do anything, not even to tilt the brim of the hat away before we hit that fucking truck. There was this suspended instant that was just the crunch of metal as the pressure knocked me so hard into my seatbelt that I thought my chest was crushed. The hat fell off as our car flipped, the world spinning before we hit the road upside down. The next thing I remember was lying on the roof of the car, bawling as I looked down at my arm. I think I was more afraid that I was seeing my bone than how much it hurt. Dad had been knocked out and bleeding from this gash in the side of his head, a broken nose and around some piece of car sticking from his side. What scared me the most was that mom was gone. Just gone. There was so much fucking blood everywhere.” Karl paused to grit his teeth, choking back a sob unsuccessfully. He tore his hand from John’s to rub his eyes. Karl was breaking with how little emotion he was trying to give away, but he just managed to show even more with how badly he was trying to hide. John’s hand instinctively followed Karl’s to his face, layering his over those long fingers. He felt wet eyelashes flutter against his skin just for a second before Karl ducked away. “My mom died on my birthday because someone was being careless and she had unbuckled her seatbelt to give me her hat.”

“Oh my god, Karl,” he whispered, hesitant to try to touch the hand again. He was only just aware of the wetness sliding down his own face, but couldn’t care about himself when Karl was hurting _again_. He had to do something to make this better because he had caused all those memories to come back when he had stopped too quickly. Karl had lost him mom in a car accident like John had lost his birth parents, but where John had been too young to remember them much less the accident, Karl could still beat himself over it. “Karl, I’m so sorry, I didn’t... I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t fucking know, which is the exact reason why I told you about it. If you already knew do you think I would just unload that story on you again? Like my mom dying is my most favourite story to bring up whenever I can, even if you’ve already heard it a million times or if we just met me. I introduce myself with ‘Hi, I’m Karl; my mom was ejected from her seat through the front window of our car and what was left of her was too much of a broken heap for us to even say goodbye too. Happy fifth birthday to me. What’s your name?’ No. I only told you because I want you to understand that I can’t bear to lose someone else I care about for something as dumb as getting lost in my eyes or whatever the hell you were distracted by.” Karl’s eyes softened as he reached out, thumb swiping through a tear making its way down John’s face. Taking that as his cue, John mirrored the action, lightly brushing away the trails on Karl’s face with the pads of his fingers. His heart was beating a million times per minute, slamming hard against his chest but it didn’t matter because Karl was sort of smiling at him now like John really did mean something big to him.

“It was you kind of smiling, actually.” He felt compelled to touch those lips when he said that, but instead blushed feverously at the thought. That was not okay or cool in any way to do to a friend much less a male, one hundred percent guy friend. Why would he even think to do that? His thoughts were being just stupid around Karl and they weren’t getting any better. “Sorry. I’ll save it, uh, looking at you—that sounds weird, gosh!—I won’t do anything but drive and maybe talk. I’ll be careful. I couldn’t stand losing you for any reason, dumb or otherwise.”

“Why do you have to say perfect shit like that, John?” Karl sighed, tilting his head until John was all but cupping his cheek. His skin was really smooth. John pulled his hand away pretty quickly, turning his attention back to the wheel, which was sure interesting! Yep, all those little finger grooves were totally consuming all of his attention. He didn’t notice Karl looking back out the window, or how his hand was a little damp. Nope. It was driving time.

“You started it.”

 

They had been roughly five minutes from the movie theatre so the silence was only unbearable for a little while. It was weird because when they went without saying anything before, it had been comfortable quiet. This was tense in the way that was making John think he was sweating a ton and what he could possibly do about it. The nervousness took the opportunity to resurface, stronger than ever, even though there seriously was _nothing_ to be nervous about.

“This is stupid.” Karl grumbled, just when they pulled into a parking space close to the doors. “Say something to cure whatever the fuck this evening has come down with. Was it the feeling jam we had back there? Of course that was it. I ruined the evening by bringing up my dead mom because I’m just the life of any social situation. If I knew that starting to tell you about all the shit that’s wrong with me meant things were going to be awkward between us, I would have wired my jaw shut. Could you please try to forget it so you can go back to being a dork and I can go back to just keep it to myself? That would be a huge help.”

“No, Karl, come on, it’s not like that.” This outing really wasn’t going well so far. What had been intended as more bonding time had so far come up with too much crying and too much undetermined feelings. But this was what his dad had been talking about when he had said Karl wasn’t going to be someone he could just expect to have fun with. This would take a while and Karl needed to feel trust between them in order to let go of his defenses. If Karl felt ready to open up to him it didn’t matter how sad John thought it was. Talking about it was better than him keep it all inside. “I’m really, really happy that you feel secure enough to let me know about what happened. I want to know more about you: whatever you feel like you can share, good or bad, whenever you want to share it. This is my own thing that’s been bugging me. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Do you,” Karl shifted in his seat, looking down and then up through that mass of white. It felt like there was something stuck in John’s throat and he didn’t think he could ease it without visibly gulping. “Want to talk about it?” John settled with coughing lightly. That’s what John should have said when Karl had talked about his mom, because he was sure Karl took some of the blame for the accident on himself. Maybe even more than what he put on the truck driver who had hit them. John couldn’t imagine living with something so traumatic since he was five years old. He wanted to take that pain away but had no means to do so. He should have _at least_ asked if he wanted to talk about it.

“I don’t think I even know what _it_ is yet. When I do though, yeah, I want to. Should we go see what’s playing? Um, unless you want to talk about, uh, before?” Karl hesitated, weighing the options briefly in a moment where John felt a mix of dread and some kind of weird anticipation. He wanted to find out about his most secretive friend in order to try and make things better, but he knew that the story of his mom was just the start. There was more than one factor that had turned Karl Vantas into the person he was and the person he pretended to be.

“I think we can save our tears for another time. I’d rather not be bawling in the middle of a parking lot especially while the sun doesn’t even have the decency of being set,” Karl said as he picked at the tassel bits on his scarf.

“We can go somewhere else? Back to your foster home?” John suggested, ducking and tilting his head closer to try to get his friend’s attention. He smiled softly in a way that he hoped would convey he’d be totally okay with just talking the night away. Karl really was focused on his scarf though.

“John, we can do that after numbing our brains for an hour and a half with something that passes as cinema these days, if we even have the desire to bring that up again. If you’re so compelled to delve further into life and all its woes after the movie, I will be sure to discover the location of all the tissue boxes from Anne. I’ll unleash my full unedited biography on you, complete with an extra chapter on how much I cry when I’m alone. We can get it over and done with if that’s what you want. After.”

“Hey, Karl, look at me.” Karl really was making an effort to look at anything but John. When red eyes flickered to his, they quickly shifted away again. That seemed to be all he was going to get. “Okay, you don’t have to look at me. I only want to know if you’re comfortable with telling me. I don’t want to force you into talking about anything you don’t really want to talk about because you feel pressured or something. You’re my best friend and I just want to be yours. I want to be a person you can just let it out with, someone who you can just unload on because I know you’d let me do the same.”

“Fuck, John, you are. You are and so much more than that, you have no idea. It’s just so goddamn hard to talk about what happened and feel vulnerable in front of anyone. Even just saying this is bile in my mouth because I’m admitting to how weak I am. But fuck it. Fuck whatever is wrong in my head because I sincerely don’t want to hide from you; I don’t want to hide anything from you.” Their eyes caught and held. John was surprised he could even hear Karl over the pounding in his ears. He had to be coming down with the flu what with how his stomach was twisting up in knots while his skin radiated heat. What he took to be nerves was probably just a part of the bug in his system. It was the first time he felt relieved over being sick! “John, I’m terrified that what I tell you will change things between us.”

“Whatever it is, I promise I won’t let things change.” Karl’s good hand bunched up a fistful of his jeans so John took his cue to change the subject. It was getting pretty emotional in his car. Some fresh air would probably do them some good. “Come on. Let’s go inside.” John got out of the car and actually managed to walk around to Karl’s side before his friend even opened the door. Someone was lost in his own thoughts! So John opened it for him, doing a little bow as he swung it open. He even offered Karl his hand.

“Are you fucking serious with this gentleman thing? Are you trying to make me swoon ponderously to the floor with the sheer magnificent cliché of what you’re doing?” Karl made no move to get out.

“That depends, is it working?” Karl gaped, lost for words only briefly.

“Did you seriously just as me that? Are you kidding me with—okay. I should know by now you have no idea what you’re doing or have any notion that the words coming out of your mouth string together in a way you don’t understand. Let’s put it this way— if throw your coat down on a puddle so as I might stomp my perfectly dry feet over it, I am yours forever.” Karl’s hand met his as he sort of lightly pulled his friend forward. They kept talking while they travelled the short distance to the doors. For a Thursday it seemed pretty busy, but then it was summer.

“Where are we going to find a puddle when it hadn’t rained for a while?” John’s words were kind of just running away with themselves into things he didn’t mean to come out suggestively. He blamed getting sick. He hoped it wasn’t something contagious. Karl did this short laugh thing under his breath that sounded more frustrated than amused. He made a gesture backwards and John was kind of surprised at how well the jacket he wore stayed balanced on his left shoulder.

“Maybe we can use the excessive amount of tears that we gathered together in your car? I’m sure there’s enough in there to significantly enlarge the nearest ocean.” John laughed because it hadn’t just been Karl filling a sea of sad. They both opened a set of doors for each other, like some kind of good manner rivalry, before they stood side by side in the lobby. John scanned the digital board that scrolled different titles, ratings and play times. Luckily for them, eight really did seem like prime time for movies to be starting!

“Alright, what do you want to see, Karl?” John grinned, gesturing to the possibilities. Karl scrutinized him for a moment before sighing.

“Though I may come to regret the decision I made, I told you that you could pick when I asked if you wanted to do something, so just pick one of the stupid action movies you’re dying to watch. Which has the most guns? Actually, you also like terrible comedies too, don’t you? I’m sure one of those is also playing. Whatever has the lowest ratings is what we will see. It will be like a sledgehammer chiselling away at my IQ until I’m dragging my knuckles like the rest of the general public.”

“Did you want to see Friends with Benefits or Monte Carlo or something like that? Since you like, uh, romantic movies,” John suggested, picking out the obvious romcoms from their movie posters.

“Okay, I don’t think you’re comprehending picking a movie to suit your own interests. Both of those would just cause you to bitch and ask what the fuck was going on every two minutes since your brain can’t function unless explosions are going off in thirty second intervals to keep your attention. You would hate the subtle nuances of romantic comedies. Now pick a manly movie, John.”

“Come on, we should both want to watch it,” John insisted, because where was the fun in just getting to decide on their evening entertainment by himself?

“You wouldn’t want to watch what I want to watch. I’m perfectly content with just accompanying you to whatever filth you decide to subject us to.” Karl was having none of it. Not even a compromise. John didn’t feel like arguing though because what Karl said was actually kind of sweet, in that roundabout way of being adorable he had.

“... So you’re just happy to be here?” He asked just to be sure he was properly translating from Karl to normal speech.

“Isn’t that was I just fucking said?” Karl mumbled, looking away because he was embarrassed again. He fidgeted around while a blush coloured his cheeks and John could help but laugh a little because his friend sure got embarrassed easily. Though, John was kind of aware that he was having his slice of embarrassment in the last couple of days.

“That was really nice, you know, minus the little tagged on insult to keep in character.” John moved into a short line up, trying to make a decision. He was sure by the time they got to the front they would have settled on something. This just gave them a deadline so they didn’t end up arguing about how the other should pick. “Let’s watch the Selena Gomez movie. You totally hummed that song by her the other day in the show—er yeah.” And John had just brought up he had been listening to Karl taking a shower. John no longer had even the slightest desire to watch Monte Carlo, as he was sure he would recall being a total creep every time he so much as witnessed anything to do with Selena Gomez. “Or the one with Justin Timberlake. Either one.”

“Love You Like a Love Song. Don’t pretend like you don’t know the name of the song. It’s catchy as fuck.” But Karl didn’t even notice that it was kind of weird for a dude to pay attention to what another dude was humming in the shower. Maybe it wasn’t and John was making a fuss over nothing. That was probably it actually. “And no, let’s not watch the Selena Gomez movie. Let’s watch Captain America. It calls to you, even though it is not in the usual criteria of being from the 90’s.”

“Kay, jeeze.” That was so not the game plan as John stepped up to the ticket machine and pressed the buttons. He sort of blocked Karl’s view while he ignored the Captain America button and Karl noticed something was afoot.

“What are you doing?” He asked, as John pressed an extra plus symbol under adult ticket selection. John was kind of glad the machine didn’t display the title on this screen, because he was kind of sure Karl would through a little temper tantrum over John disobeying direct orders.

“Buying our tickets?” John tried innocently. He tried to channel what he imagined an angel would look like. So pure. So not hiding anything. Karl glared right through the expertly crafted expression.

“I can pay for my own ticket, John.” At least he hadn’t caught on to the real thing. John waves him off as he touched the next screen.

“Dude, you can get the snacks, okay?” That being said, he proceeded to click on adding a popcorn and drink deal to the tickets because it was a few dollars cheaper. There was no way he was passing up that kind of savings. Karl was the opposite of impressed with him.

“You did not just buy the combo. Why are you even doing this? You can’t just pay for everything. It’s not like this is a date and you’re trying to buy your way to first base. Right?” _Woah_. Where did that come from? That one word demanded an answer and John really didn’t know how to go about it. The obvious response was it wasn’t like that because they were just two guy friends hanging out. Why did it still sound like some trick question? The longer he delayed it with pressing buttons, the harder it became to say anything. John went with his first instinct on this one, which was to laugh way too late and only half respond with a question.

“Uh, haha, yeah? Sorry, I kinda just wanted to treat you tonight? You can get it next time, if you want.” Karl seemed to accept that with a grumble and everything was once again fine. That was, until John offered Karl a stub of paper. There was a close inspection which shifted only once from the print—Karl just kind of stared dumbstruck at John like he could not even believe what he was seeing because it was just that disgusting—before returning down. After the longest ten seconds of his life, Karl looked kind of exasperated back at him.

“Why does it say Friends With Benefits and not Captain America, John?” For a second, John wondered if he could play it off as a slip of the fingers. Is that was it says? Whoops! Oh well. There was nothing John could do about it. It wasn’t like they could return the tickets. Well, they could, but that would waste and it was stupid because they had two perfectly good tickets in their hands.

“Well, I was thinking, since I’m going to get a marathon of Nick Cage going as soon as you set foot in my house again, that we should watch a romcom now.” Logic. It made so much sense that Karl wouldn’t be able to argue, especially if John transitioned the conversation like an expert. “Hey, I just noticed, you’ve only called me John tonight!” Well done.

“Would you rather me go back to Egbert?” Karl suggested, scratching at the plaster encasing his left arm. Someone should applaud at how skillfully that potential argument was handled.

“Haha, um, John works.” Then they were kind of just smiling at each other, which was a nice break from Karl being cranky or unimpressed for various reasons. It was a pretty cool moment that didn’t last.

“Excuse me.” John turned his head and oh. Oh. There were a few people behind them, waiting for a turn to purchase their movie tickets. They had just been standing front of the machine, just grinning at each other. John pretty much felt like a huge jerk immediately and Karl was well on his way to turning beat red. Maximum embarrassment levels the likes in which John had never before seen. He was really concerned Karl wasn’t breathing. He would have done something but the woman who had spoken up continued. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude but there’s a line and you’re sort of holding it up with flirting in front of the machine. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it’s just, there’s a line.”

“Oh wow. Oh jeeze, we’re not—it’s not—” John tripped on the attempt to explain. Karl’s hand came down like a vice on his wrist. He tugged hard enough to cause John to trip a little bit over his feet but he luckily remain upright. Falling down in front of a bunch of people was totally not on things that would help him get over what just happened.

“John, I don’t think they give a shit. Let’s go.” Karl’s voice was low, commanding in a way that just meant business. John might have listened if his brain and mouth were cooperating.

“But we’re not—!” His mouth tried again to explain but it still wasn’t working right. They weren’t though! They weren’t flirting really, and weren’t in a relationship where flirting was to be expected. They were pals, bros, buddies for all of time, forever and always! His thoughts did nothing to ease his stumbling tongue.

“You’ve made that perfectly fucking clear. Come on. Let’s get snacks you apparently felt the need to pay for on top of everything else.” John almost missed how bitter that had sounded as he was dragged to the concession.

 

Almost as soon as they had claimed two premium seats in the back of the theatre, Karl cursed and announced he would be right back as he had forgotten to get something. As soon as his friend marched with purpose down the stairs and out of the room, John fished his phone out. He almost dropped it and his hands were sort of shaking and he had to be getting sick. He needed to talk at someone about just what was going on with this night and was sure that someone who would listen would be online. The choices were few but John was only looking for one name to rely on. He just needed to talk, bro to bro.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 20:13! --   
EB: dave, i need your opinion on this.   
TG: lay it on me bro   
EB: i got asked to the movies, which is a totally normal thing to do. so i went to pick this person up, and they kind of dressed up really nicely, but i sort of put on some of my better clothes too. whatever. they brought up some traumatic past stuff after i did something dumb and we were crying and like, touching each other’s faces? but like, it was really sad!  
EB: then when we got to the movies they said i could pick what we watched but i picked something they would like, and paid for both of us. they kind of didn’t like that and said since it wasn’t a date, i didn’t need to do that.  
EB: and they use to call me by my last name but switched today all of a sudden.  
EB: and the people behind us in like asked us to stop flirting so they could use the ticket machine thing.  
EB: i didn’t think it sounded really like flirting but now that i’m thinking about it, it was kind of suggestive!  
EB: and i was doing most of the suggesting.  
EB: does this...  
EB: UGH its so embarrassing!!!!!!!!  
EB: does this sound like a date?  
EB: it can’t be a date if i didn’t intend for it to be a date, right??   
TG: bro going to the movies isnt what makes it a date  
TG: you pestering me on your phone about it while your date is in the washroom makes it a date  
TG: youre on a date bro  
TG: embrace your ascension up to the rest of society  
TG: that chick sounds pretty intense  
TG: sure you can handle her  
TG: its fucking vantas isnt it   
EB: haha. yeah. so that changes it, right? since it’s just karl, and karl’s a guy, it not weird, right?  
EB: bros say weird stuff to bros when they have a bromance going on.  
EB: right??   
TG: dude just go with whatever helps you sleep at night   
EB: no way! help me out here! is this weird? karl’s my friend so it’s fine that we’re getting to understand each other and i want to touch his hands for stupid reasons, right?  
EB: there’s something seriously wrong with me here.  
EB: i’m pretty sure i’m getting sick, like the flu.   
TG: not my place to assume things egbert  
TG: not my feelings to figure out  
TG: it could be hanging out or it could be a date  
TG: it could be the flu that makes you want to have vantas babies  
TG: i already took the trouble to plug your faces into one of those free what your baby would look like programs and your daughter is just not worth the effort into somehow creating her  
TG: teri and i have a son with glasses instead of eyes and should not be allowed to exist either so dont get too choked up about your pale bucktoothed demon spawn  
TG: actually all of our kids are fucking awful regardless of the combinations  
TG: its clearly our faults and not makeababycom or wherever the fuck i got this piece of shit program from  
TG: so anyways its up to you two to decide  
TG: im mature

John was just about to tell Dave how useless that had been when Karl returned from his trip with a bag of gummies that had probably cost him five dollars when they were worth about one. “Hey. Fuck lines, seriously but I’m the idiot who didn’t get these the first time so I deserved every second I stood there listening to the popcorn reheating for the thousandth time today. Who are you talking to?” John snapped his phone shut and pocketed it in a hurry, just in case Karl might sneak a glance at the screen. Karl was way more interested in tearing into the plastic bag of sour keys.

“Oh, uh, haha, Dave. About stuff. Advice stuff about that thing I’m trying to work out.” Karl nodded, as he sucked sugar and sour dust off the first red and yellow candy he dug out of the bag. He popped it in his mouth and shifted it to one cheek while he spoke, a bit of the end protruding from his lips.

“Okay? Let me know if you want to talk about that, since we’ve established that share time is a thing with us. Pass the popcorn, the previews are about to start.” Karl seemed really pumped about it, eyes glued to the screen while making a grabbing motion for the popcorn as he gnashed at the candy. When John didn’t offer him the tub of buttery goodness right away—which was a vegetable, so it was okay to eat a ton of it—Karl gave him a quick glance. “What? The previews are half the reason to go to the movie theatre in the first place. Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy deciding what is worth your time in the coming months and laughing at what just looks like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“I like the previews too.” Karl grinned at him before stuffing as much popcorn as he possibly could into his mouth. And, watching as those cheeks bulged and teeth chewed, John kind of didn’t know why he had been freaking out before. What other people thought really didn’t matter. What mattered was it felt great to hang out with a person he knew but at the same time knew nothing about. It mattered that he liked talking to this guy, liked trying to comfort him when he was upset and liked being a part of his life. Maybe he was sick, maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he had a fever, maybe he was just nervous. It didn’t matter right now. He could sort through it in his own time, maybe even with the help of his best friend. Right then though, as the theatre dimmed and music began to play, there was little else that mattered to John besides three simple facts: movies were awesome, friends were totally awesome and Karl was more awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just bluh and a half. Just when you think John is finally starting to get it, he thinks his feelings are actually a cold, thus destroying any hope of progress. Fuck progress. Can you tell this was a story I originally intended to be all about sexy times? I’m sure all the awkward hand holding gave me away. That is borderline pornographic.
> 
> In other news, how did all these kudos happen? What did I do to deserve those? All of you who have left comments, my heart practically explodes when I read the lovely, undeserved things you say. Unlike these two boys, I have come to terms with my feelings. I love you. All of you. You have three. Take them. You’ve earned them. <3 <3 <3


	7. In Which Karl Vantas Throws The Same Hissy Fit Three Times

Karl had been keeping a mental tally of all the inappropriate things John did during their non-date but he had stopped counting after the tenth offense. They hadn’t even set foot in the movie theatre and this outing had already become the epitome of two preteens on a date, minus a chaperone. Teri would undoubtedly be both amused and outraged as this was most likely some kind of harassment. He regrettably wanted to talk to her about how frustrating it was that John was being absolutely clueless while playing at his heartstrings. Outright rejection would be welcomed since at least then he couldn’t get his hopes up like someone who didn’t know any better.

When he sat down next to John with his offensively expensive baggy of Sour Keys, the count started anew. Within the one hundred and nine minutes of expertly crafted romantic comedy, there were obscene numbers happening in his lists that he wouldn’t have believed if they hadn’t happened been assaulting him firsthand: three, the number of times they fought over the armrest and John just decided to cover Karl’s arm with his; seven, the number of times John’s and his hands touched in the bag of popcorn; eleven, the number of times he caught John glancing at the side of his face.

Karl took to enjoying the snarky exchanges of the leads while peripherally watching John and wondering what he was thinking. They both had the decency to squirm during the copious scenes of sexuality that was the point of the movie. When things took a turn towards the emotional near the end, John wrapped their hands together. Not because John was feeling things—he looked confused during what he deemed as unnecessary drama, because Dylan and Jamie were clearly perfect for each other so why didn’t they get it?—but because Karl was entirely consumed by the plot. John’s butter coated fingers held on to his sugar powered ones and it would have been such a moment if John understood things. Apparently hand holding was something they were going to do every time Karl cried, which was also becoming a much too regular experience.

When the lights had illuminated the room, the seats had cleared, and the credit scroll was over, John turned to smile at Karl. Their hands were sticky and sweaty and still very much attached to each other. Karl wanted to crush their faces together to act out one of the numerous kissing scenes that had taken place on the screen just as much as he wanted to pop John one right in his beautiful face. Dangerous levels of teenage desire mixed with an abundance of frustration warred inside him. It was about as healthy as his dinner of popcorn and candy had been, and not even having the courtesy of being deliciously satisfying.

“What did you think?” That smile also needed to be outlawed. He tried to at least enjoy in it while ignoring the brewing emotions making the best of efforts to boil over. Karl had tried to accept the hand holding and lopsided grin full of buckteeth but it was hard not to attempt the impossible by trying to shake the hetero orientation out of his friend. He could at least take a stab at pushing away the guilty feeling of using John, at least until he was alone with nothing better to do than hate himself.

“I enjoyed the quirky courtship and interactions between Timberlake and Kunis; the movie was sweet, mostly funny and not nearly as post-modern as it wants to be. It very much became what it started off mocking: a dramatic story about insecurities while two obscenely attracted young people fight their attraction for one another. The flighty, frivolous plot created a less than stable foundation for the seemingly forced problems in Dylan’s family mid-way through and it really sucked some of the life away from the otherwise upbeat story. Other than that critique, it was racier than what you usually find in the average romcom, but then the title speaks to the notion of casual sex and the R-rating standing out amongst the genre, so it should have been expected.”

“You’re adorable when you’re reviewing movies. I’m going to draw on your face when you’re asleep,” John said with a grin, still not making any move to unlink their disgusting hands. Did John realize he wanted to act out a scene that the two people—who had been having intercourse for a good quarter of the movie—had playfully begun to establish their relationship with? Karl laughed under his breath because there was just no way anyone could be so stupid about feelings and boundaries. But here John was, living proof that naive, ignorant bliss really did exist in human beings beyond toddlers. Wasn’t the most basic thing two people did when they had feelings hold fucking hands? Best male friends didn’t hold goddamn hands while tagging it as ‘no homo’, because it was generally considered to be a form of intimacy, at least in North America. It was pretty homo. Even Talo—a stuttering, unconfident mess of low self esteem—got the basics.

“You know, _“I really have to stop buying into this bullshit Hollywood cliché of true love.”_ Which is undoubtedly ironic coming from a bullshit Hollywood cliché of a true love story. It doesn’t make it any less true that I really have to stop. Romcoms and romances aren’t real life and they just skew my concept of relationships until I don’t even bother to try because nothing I can ever do will make that perfect person bump into me at some perfect moment on some otherwise uneventful day. People don’t just run into each other in some fated encounter that will forever change their lives into some happily ever after nonsense. They’ve set my expectations way too high and now I’m just fucking over it.”

“Woah, Karl, no. You’re way too young to give up, seriously. You can’t just decide it won’t happen to you. Jeeze, we’re teenagers! We have all the time in the world to find the perfect girls and fall in love!” Karl felt physically sick. He felt ready to just expel every partially digested kernel of popcorn all over the worn red fabric seats of the row in front of him. One word had shattered his hopes because it carved John’s sexuality in stone, even though he had already told himself a thousand and one times which gender John found attractive: _girls._ “We can even just meet some nice ones and chat a bit and if they’re not ‘the one’ it’s okay because she’s out there, Karl. I bet she’s looking for you too.”

“Oh, I assure you, she fucking isn’t.” That had been nothing short of outing himself but Karl knew John wouldn’t get it because he hadn’t gotten any of the other hints he dropped. Like blushing every ten seconds around him. “Can you be _pal_ and let go of my hand? That would be fantastic, _buddy_. It’s been roughly sixteen minutes since I actually cried and the delayed ‘no homo’ would just be stale at this point. Thanks, _friend_ , you are sure observant of everything going on.”

“Are... you mad?” Karl was going to punch John Egbert if this kept going. He was going to punch John Egbert square in the nose even though he had so many feelings telling him to assault John’s lips instead. Of course he was mad. He was being more ornery than usual and he had all but snarled every word. Did he need to resort to physical violence like his old foster dad in order to get his point across? Was John just that useless at being a functional almost adult? It was still a maybe to the hitting—delayed by the parallel to an asshole who got drunk as a profession—and a definitely to John’s social retardation.

“Congratulations. You guessed correctly. In case you hadn’t noticed, I have three settings: calm brought on by romcoms, emotional wreck, and livid. Guess which one I’m on now that the movie is over? I’ll give you a hint: fuck you with a rusty chainsaw, you obliviously insensitive douche canoe.” John looked genuinely shocked over the news, almost making another grab at Karl’s hand. One seething glare that just screamed _‘don’t touch me’_ stopped the contact from happening again. Karl was quite sure any darling, sentimental sign of affection was just cause him to go on a rampage, which would probably have involved dumping the remaining kernels of popcorn in their near empty bag over John’s head before trying to tear seat cushions off their metal hinges.

“Oh man, what did I do, Karl? It was the hand thing, wasn’t it? I’m sorry! Your hand was super soft and warm and then I just forgot because it felt comfortable!” Karl wanted to point out that the average straight male wouldn’t go around holding a suspected straight male’s hand because it felt comfortable, as that would be a sign of batting for the other metaphorical team. Instead, theoretically they would fist bump him or spit on the ground because average straight males were fucking disgusting.

“You know what? You know what I’m going to say? If you don’t know what you did, I’m not going to tell you. Get a goddamn clue.” The theatre’s cleaning crew was shooting them questioning glances while sweeping up piles of wasted popcorn. Karl didn’t really blame them; two boys, sitting alone after the movie had ended ages ago, one of them losing his shit whilst the other tried to appease him. Without another word Karl got up and made quick work of storming out.

“Please, Karl, tell me! I don’t want to fight with you. Come on, please,” John practically begged, latching onto Karl’s arm to try and slow him down. Not that John couldn’t keep up, since the vast majority of his body was leg. Really long, skinny chicken legs that Karl was sure were just covered in dark hair. It was another part of John that Karl found strangely attractive, which made everything more difficult.

“Too bad, because we’re fighting. This right here is a fight. Actually, you’re not putting much of a defense so it’s pretty much me giving you a verbal beating into the ground.” They were out of the theatre in no time. While walking in an almost blind fury, it was almost a viable option to ignore John as they headed towards his car and travel back to his foster home on foot. His aching feet at the end of the journey would somehow be on John’s conscious and that was nearly enough motivation to be stupid. However, Karl wasn’t actually as dumb as he acted at every possible moment of his waking life. His ribs were unimpressed with just minimal movement and the extra exertion of walking for maybe thirty minutes was easily avoidable by simply caving in to a pair of huge blue eyes.

“Just because I’m letting you give me a ride, doesn’t mean we’re not fighting. I’m still a fucking satellite of rage, burning out of control in the atmosphere of your idiocy.” John paused in mid-reach for Karl’s door, eyes widening slightly. Karl took that opportunity to grab the handle and open it himself. John did not get to be a fucking gentleman and almost all around nice guy when he was pissed off.

“Are you also a rocket ship on a collision course to Mars? You’re sort of quoting something here. Are you purposely quoting something epic right now or was that just the metaphor you decided to go with?” Trust John to notice that Karl may have tweaked a metaphor from a song in that last bout of sub-par rage because he was just too tired of it to even be creative with his anger.

“Don’t stop me now,” Karl answered, brushing it off with a wave of his hand as he slip in to the seat. John did a very good job impersonating a complete and utter moron as he flailed all the way around to his side of the car. He yanked his door open with a groan befitting the role he was just an expert at by this point in his life.

“Karl, why do you have to be awesome while being mad at me? I said I was sorry!”

“Sorry for what?” Karl asked, knowing the answer wouldn’t be along the lines of acting like he was interested then talking about the opposite gender as if they were the only viable option. Something like that would mean John was an aware individual who paid attention to Karl’s terrible job at hiding how he felt instead of being _John._

“Holding your hand for so long and making you uncomfortable?” Karl kicked the floor of the car at the awkward upwards inflection at the end of that sentence, causing John to wince. What had he really expected, one of Gami’s miracles?

“Was that a question or was that what you decided was the reason I was mad at you for?”

“Well, it’s hard to apologize for something I’m not even sure you’re upset about. Was it saying that there is plenty of time to find someone? Because I’m sure you will!”

“Don’t presume to know that there’s someone out there who can understand me, who would give a shit about me, and who would actually want to act out sappy romcom scenes with someone who can hardly ever shut their mouth for more than three seconds without holding their breath. What kind of abysmal levels of poor judgment would they have to have to actually consciously want to hold my hand just because they want to, or say I was attractive even though it was a bull-faced lie, or think the unthinkable and actually stick around as long as it took until I could accept something as natural from them as a kiss?” It was hard to say because so much of what he wanted John gave him, yet John wasn’t a possibility. It was hard to think he could find anyone that he would care about as much as he did about one, bespeckled teenager. “I have the answer, John, and it’s the opposite of what you think. No one is there.” He only wanted what he couldn’t have and couldn’t think to settle for someone who he hadn’t chased for years.

“Stop it!” John had actually shouted. Angrily. Karl hadn’t thought it was possible but John to lose his temper but apparently he could make even the most passive of individuals flip some tables. If he could ruffle some of Talo’s feathers, someone owed him the prize of being declared the most insufferable individual in the world. Karl kept his eyes downcast, afraid of what he might see. A hand tilted his head up at the chin, forcing him to look into soft blue eyes. “Karl. Please stop. I don’t know what happened to you to make you this negative about yourself, but it needs to end. I know it’s not much coming from me, but you are beautiful and also funny and way too amazing to think no one would want you. You’re just this totally dorky and romantic and awesome person and anyone would be lucky to have you. You need to stop thinking no one could ever love you. There are fourteen other people who’ve seen what I’ve seen and care about you so much. Stop doing this to yourself.”

Karl wanted to protest that quite a few of those people were insane and disliked him immensely—Viki, Dave and Elie had basically told him their opinion on where he could shove it on numerous occasions, Talo avoid talking to him completely, Eric only tolerated him for his expert romantic advice to stop being a creep, while Fifi, Aria and Rose were indifferent to his existence. That left a few, but even those weren’t how John described: he and Soll would just bicker most of the time, Teri held vague insight over his head because she thought he was too dumb to get it, Jade could only be counted on to tell him off, Gami had always been too far into some drug induced state to offer much to a conversation, and Nell only ever wanted to role-play. He absently thought Kaya might care. Kaya was as close to a mother figure as Karl had since his real mom died, even though she was his age.

None of that mattered though, because all his brain caught was that John, in some capacity, loved him. So Karl wanted to protest but he was too busy trying to keep his heart from exploding out of his chest to communicate.

 

John drove cautiously for all of the ten minutes it took to go from the theatre to Karl’s foster home. Karl was caught between fuming over the same thing, trying to calm the fluttering of a billion tiny butterflies fucking around inside him, and feeling like a jackass for blowing up at John. He tried to rationalize what John was doing and most of it made sense if he stretched reality a little to fit with just how his friend worked. He got that John seemed like he was flirting because that was what he thought two close buddies did and maybe he hadn’t had too many real life friends to interact with to see he was mistaken. He touched people too much because he was a clingy person. He stared at the side of Karl’s face with a light dusting of pink flushing over his cheeks because he was a fucking tease.

Karl didn’t want to talk about it even though he knew he needed to let it out sometime. Pesterchum had always been a good outlet, so that was his plan for the rest of the night. Once John had parked, done the duty of walking Karl to the door, and Karl had ignored the nervous seconds of shifting between John saying goodnight and Anne unlocking the door, Karl retreated to his room. He fell on top of his bed, deserving the jolt of pain from his arm and back from the pressure. He shifted on his stomach, unable to find any really comfortable possible. He settled with curling up on his right side, debating just going to sleep instead of talking to anyone.

A gentle knock rapped on his door and he hardly had the motivation to spit out a question as to what the potential intruder wanted.

“I take it things didn’t go so well tonight?” Anne asked carefully through the slightly ajar door. She had opened it just enough from Karl to see here, but didn’t make any motion to come inside. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“I’d say that this wasn’t to be rude, but quite honestly I don’t think I can be anything but. I don’t want to talk with someone who doesn’t know a thing about me or really doesn’t give two shits about what I have to say about John Egbert being an insufferably loveable fuckass.” Anne just stared at him, quite possibly stunned by the swearing. Karl’s mouth took the opportunity to go ahead and tell her just what was going on, even after just insisting he wasn’t going to. He was getting tired of just ignoring his emotions and this random woman he was stuck with was as good as any person to vent to. Besides, she already knew half of the problem from his social worker. “Things went well up to the point where I yelled at him for something he wasn’t even aware he was doing; flirting, which isn’t fair because he’s straight and I’m obviously not. But he had the nerve of saying I’d find a girl after holding my hand and making me feel fucking special or something sentimental like that. That’s ten degrees of ignorance right there but other than that the night played out like a dream date complete with a long talk on the side of the road about how my mom died. I don’t know how a straight boy manages to make hanging out that unintentionally romantic.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you two were together,” Anne apologized, a gentle expression of pity on her delicate face and Karl didn’t even feel that angry about the mistake. She wasn’t even the first person that night to make that assumption. “Karl, have you told him how you feel?” Karl continued to lie sideways along his bed, arms splayed awkwardly in a way that was really uncomfortable, watching the woman with a guarded glare.

“Stop trying to shove your nose into my business. I’m not destroying the only real friendship I’ve ever had over having a certain attraction to buckteeth, blue eyed nerds.” Karl sighed, knowing she was probably wondering how he decided to say so much after insisting on sharing so little. He thought it went without saying that he constantly contradicted himself, so he continued with the pattern by saying what he didn’t want to. “I have feelings for John Egbert but I won’t tell him because I’ve convinced myself he’ll be disgusted over what I am, since I’m pretty fucking disgusted over what I am, even though he’d most likely awkwardly just accept it. So stop judging me.”

“I’m not judging you, sweetheart, I just want you to know I’m here to listen.” They always started out there to listen to all his woes, but he always ruined that desire in the first few days.

“Can I just be alone for a while?” Anne nodded, asking if he wanted some hot chocolate or tea before she left. Dumbfounded with the unfamiliar gesture, Karl rejected the offered beverage. When his door snapped closed and footsteps padded down the hallway, Karl grabbed his laptop. After a minute to start it up, he logged on to Pesterchum to maybe unwind—which would more than likely turn into him bringing up John again—hoping that the root of his problem hadn’t somehow managed to teleport home. He really wasn’t sure what to do the next time he spoke to John. Pretending like nothing was wrong was the frustrating, yet easy way out.

Deciding if he was going to be an idiot, he might as well be called one.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering twinArmageddons [TA] at 23:06! --   
CG: CAPTOR. DISTRACT ME WITH YOUR HIGHLY INTERESTING LIFE. I AM ALL EARS TO HEAR ABOUT HOW MUCH OF A BETTER CODER YOU ARE THAN ME. PLEASE REVEAL ONTO ME THE WAYS OF A SLIGHTLY HIGHER FUNCTIONING, ALBEIT TERRIBLY DRESSED AND POTENTIALLY BI-POLAR, HUMAN BEING.  
TA: hii two you two ii gue22?  
TA: you know, ii 2hould get iit by now that you can’t 2ay hello wiithout beiing a diick.  
TA: actually, ii kiind of wanted two try 2omethiing. after the whole piicture 2hariing ii got two thiinkiing we could talk two each other.  
CG: ARE YOU A FUCKING MORON, CAPTOR? BECAUSE I’M PRETTY SURE WE’RE TALKING RIGHT NOW.  
TA: we’re typiing, you moron.  
TA: talkiing ii2 when you u2e your word2.  
CG: OH. WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO DO THAT?  
TA: ju2t an2wer the call, a22hole.

A link appeared in the window accompanied by a ringing sound. _Oh shit._ Karl hadn’t even known Pesterchum had a chat option. He didn’t really know what to do about it, shifting between the options of just talking to Soll or logging off to avoid the inevitable humiliation. Since he didn’t really have a reason not to do this after throwing the no real life sharing out the window, he might as well. He had probably blushed the embarrassment out for the day, so this development might not be as terrible as he thought. He clicked the call, hearing a crackle and then buzz of background noise from another computer. After some impossibly fast typing from the other end, there was a soft _‘oh’_ as Soll realized Karl had accepted the invitation.

 _“Thup.”_ Karl was taken aback. Had he just heard that? _“Uh, KL? Thay thomething. It’th kind of weird jutht talking to mythelf here. Ith my mic even on? Ehehe.”_ Woah. Something just stood out like a sore thumb, with a nasty, infected hang nail, on a hand model.

“Holy lisp and three quarters. Have you always had that joyous impediment that was just allowed to flourish without any kind of speech therapy or did it make itself known once you came out of a very dark closet? Wearing everything from said closet, of course, as I’m sure you’re dressed up in something hideous while you’re talking to me. For fucking shame, Captor.” And at one point in his life Karl wondered why he couldn’t make friends.

 _“Oh hey, fuck you too.”_ He deserved that. He deserved that and a whole lot more. He slapped his hand across his face after falling into the usual exchange of insults with his supposed friend. How Captor took so much verbal abuse while being almost as negative about himself as Karl was beyond him.

“That was seriously uncalled for. What I said, I mean. What you said was entirely justified because fuck me, I just don’t stop and think what is coming out of my mouth. Ugh. I guess I’m still kind of pissed off about something that happened with John and how he didn’t get why I was angry and am projecting on to you because you’re as an easy target as any. Not that I’m a ball of fucking sunshine on any other day, but what I’m trying to do here is to say sorry I guess or something like that. I don’t know how you can put up with me on a regular basis, but you must have something terribly wrong with your head to tolerate me even in small doses. You’ve exceeded the recommended prescribed amount by tenfold and it may have resulted in mild brain damage,” Karl explained one simple thing in as many words possible. Soll made a choking noise on the other end, before a sharp laugher.

 _“You talk a mile per minute, KL. Wow. I think I’m kind of getting what JN thaid about your uthual ranting being part of your charm.”_ Karl really didn’t understand what the two found charming about sick burns, less they were some kind of masochists. He wouldn’t really put it past either of them. _“But are you not getting along? Wait, are you in hith houthe or what’th happening? You have neglected to tell me anything about what hath been going on.”_ He really hadn’t told anyone much of what had really happened. In a premium time to let them know the goings on of the last couple of days, he had decided to spend even more time with John. There seemed to be events piling up that he had neglected to mention and it was well time to fill in his closer acquaintances. Or maybe just Soll.

“It’s a little bit of a mess to say the least, Captor. I shouldn’t have thought everyone would just be okay with me staying at a friend’s house, much less John’s. For some reason Mr. Egbert has saintly patience and is actually jumping through Social Services’ hoops in order to officially foster me. But until he gets approval, I’m in another foster home. I’m starting to think I should just suck it up like a big boy and avoid fucking up John’s life with my problems by severing all contact. I’m already well on my way to pouring my heart and soul out all over him. It’s as if I’m just an open book that’s not so much book as I am unbound pages scattered around the floor all about things that are fucking hard to talk about like intimacy, sexuality and social problems. No one in their right mind wants to read shit like that, except maybe Lalonde. It’s been just over a day really and I’ve already gotten into a fight with him all over him saying I’ll find a girl, like it was the most natural thing, because to John that is the natural thing. I am two steps away from blasting Adele while sobbing the lyrics into my pillow. You know? I’m actually one step away. That album is fantastic for emotional breakdowns.”

 _“KL, breath. I’m not thure what to thay here, but if I had the chance JN hath right now, I’d never fucking do thomething like that to you.”_ Karl paused, the sound of level breathing from the speakers filling the otherwise sudden silence between them. He shifted a pillow behind his back, not taking his eyes off the Pesterlog on the screen even though they weren’t using it.

“And what chance would that be?” He breathed, finding it far too hard to summon his voice to his usual deafening levels. He wasn’t sure what Soll was talking about but he had a vague idea of what the insinuation meant.

 _“To be with you, obviouthly.”_ Dumbfounded with how that statement was possible, Karl swallowed to try and ease his terribly dry throat. It wasn’t helping. There was a nervous shifting in his stomach as he took in the words, running them through his mind over and over to try and make any sense of them. No. That also was not helping.

“What?” Karl managed, hoping that there was some explanation that didn’t freak him out more than he was starting to. He didn’t know what this meant or could mean or how it would affect things.

 _“I had an enormouth crush on your for yearth? Theriouthly? You really are ath bad ath JN at catching on to thith thtuff, even ath a thelf proclaimed romantic. I don’t even know how I thtarted liking you, thince you’re kind of an athhole motht of the time.”_ It had to be some kind of joke. Such a riot to make fun of the gay friend by pretending to have a thing for him. Very funny. It was obviously a lie because Soll had a _girlfriend_. Even though bisexuality was probably a contender in some duality obsessed guy’s life, Karl had never heard anything about Soll’s interest in the same sex. Karl was the go to guy for anything relating to romance in his group of friends. There was no way that could have gotten past him. Unless he was the one Soll liked. _Oh god._

“Aria?” Karl pointed out, sticking to his monosyllable questions.

_“Calm down, KL. Breath. AA and I are together and thhe knowth how much I care about you. I would drop everything if you wanted me there. I gueth you were my firtht love and it’th hard to let it go even though I know you don’t feel that way for me. Uh, KL?”_

Karl snapped the laptop closed and pushed it swiftly from his person as if it had just declared its undying love for him. Which it sort of had. Which was sort of terrifying in a foreign, he had no idea what to do with that information, kind of way. Soll Captor had been his first acquaintance on the internet. They both had a bad habit of putting themselves down as they both had terrible self worth for their own personal reasons. They let their mouths run away with them and often had to awkwardly forgive one another for what they said. They bickered but were ultimately pretty close. And Soll Captor had always liked him, in the way Karl had always liked John Egbert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late and blah; flew out on Saturday back home for Christmas and have been busy seeing people.
> 
> Did I really just throwing Soll in for Karl to be emotionally torn and confused oven when not actually planning any of it out? Nope. I did it to make the chapter longer. I am the worst kind of person. Will I make a challenger appear for John? You bet cha if it means I can stall a relationship from happening. Except I can’t write/haven’t paid any attention to Vriska so there’s a potential problem. Maybe there will even be more than one person pining for each of their affections; I don’t even know where this story is going except for in a bed at some point. Plot, what plot? Who even has plots?
> 
> Do I enjoy making John just emotionally stupid? Yes. Do I enjoy making him think other people’s feelings are obvious when his and Karl's are totally foreign territory? Yes I do. Ha. Ha ha.


	8. In Which John Egbert Hates His Friends Figuring Out Who He Likes First

The half hour trek back to his suburban community was spent feeling increasingly guilty over what had happened. Things had been going pretty okay, albeit really date-like for hanging out. The two of them had watched a weird romantic movie together—John estimated he spent roughly half the time just watching his friend enjoying it—and had eaten a lot of popcorn and had held hands for a kind of long time. After the movie, things headed south. His insensitivity to all the things Karl was sensitive about had made the other angry, and John couldn’t just chalk this up to the emotional turmoil of his abused friend. They both were messing up. John was really messing things up. He wanted things to get better between them, but if that couldn’t happen he just wanted Karl to get what an amazing guy he was. Karl could be angry at John all he wanted if he’d understand that anyone would be lucky to have him in their life, emotional problems and all.

When John had settled down on his bed with a sigh, wondering if his dad would wake up just to ask him how things had gone, his phone buzzed. He fished it out of his pocket, hoping there was a message from Karl, and clicked at the only new text on his phone. It was from the number he never remembered giving out, because he and the owner didn’t talk to each other all that often.

 _thii2 ii2 your fault._

John’s stomach did a few unbalanced back flips over the four words, knowing who Soll had been talking to. He walked over to his idle computer rather than replying directly via phone, logging into Pesterchum. Immediately a window from Dave—probably a continuation of what they were talking about at the theatre—and Rose flashed on his screen. He’d get to those a little later, since potentially bad Karl related topics took priority. Soll was online, so John quickly typed a message to him.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering twinArmageddons [TA] at 23:32! -- 

EB: what’s my fault, soll?

He didn’t have to wait long for a response, but the delay was drawn out enough that he started to shift uncomfortably in his chair. Almost as soon as he clicked over to read the few lines Dave had left for him, Soll’s chat window flashed on his screen. Since he was already looking at Dave’s log, he scanned the red type quickly:

TG: did your man date slash not so platonic life partner come back from powdering his nose  
TG: egbert  
TG: yo  
TG: i see how it is  
TG: not cool  
TG: bros before hoes  
TG: even when your hoe is a bro

John didn’t give himself time to feel embarrassed about the insinuation, or at least much time. He clicked over to the other widow, in no way preparing himself for the earful on what he did to make Soll so upset. Actually, he really should have expected it, since Soll was basically saying the things John’s head was chewing him out for.

TA: oh, ii don’t know. how about you FUCKIING 2HIIT UP wiith KL? ii gue22 you wouldn’t get that though. what ii2 wrong wiith you?  
TA: who do you thiink you are? ii don’t under2tand how you don’t get hiim at all after monopoliiziing hiim for four year2. you have hiim every day yet you know nothing about how he feel2.  
TA: iif he criie2 over you agaiin, ii 2wear ii’ll take hiim. ii’ll fiind 2ome way two take hiim even iif ii’m the la2t per2on he want2 two talk two riight now.  
TA: you know, iit’2 not iif wiith you, iit’2 when. you’ll make hiim cry.  
TA: ii hope for hii2 2ake you can get your 2hiit together.

 _Woah._ John wanted to ask how much Karl had said about the movie night, but his heart was too busy trying to escape over the truth that his closest friend was someone he really didn’t know. He thought just learning all those things as they went along would be fine, but it wasn’t. He was doing all the wrong things and his friend was suffering because of it. It was hard to admit that maybe someone else would be better in helping Karl piece together his life, but that didn’t mean he would accept it. He was going to be selfish about this. He wanted Karl in his life and no one was going to just take him away.

EB: i know you care about karl but so do i! i care about him so much, soll. it’s just hard when i’m still learning all the things he wouldn’t tell me before. i know he’s upset now, and he will probably be upset again, because i said something he couldn’t agree with. but that’s how things work in the real world and sometimes friends disagree! it takes time and i’m trying to fix things.   
TA: ii don’t care about hiim, don’t lump me iin wiith you. ii love hiim. you tryiing to make iit better ii2n’t good enough. fiix thii2. talk two hiim and fiix thii2.

John sat back in his chair, wide eyes scanning over the line again and again. His stomach clenched and he rubbed at it carefully, knowing it wasn’t something he ate but unable to figure out the exact cause. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what his body was telling him. As much as he suspected that he was sick, he didn’t really feel it. His heart never hurt like it did when he came down with a bug; it was only when he was thinking about Karl recently. _No_. He didn’t need to think about in exactly what ways he thought Karl was totally amazing right now.

EB: wait, you love him?   
TA: you can clearly 2ee that’2 what ii typed. iit’2 one liine above your own bull2hiit que2tiion.    
EB: what about aria?    
TA: what AA ii2 two me ii2n’t any of you bu2iine22. who ii love is al2o none of your bu2iine22.    
EB: uh, you’re kind of in love with my best friend.    
TA: what’2 your poiint?    
EB: well, did you tell him?    
TA: ye2. unliike 2ome people, ii can face rejectiion, whiich ii receiived toniight after fiiguriing out ii miight a2 well get iit over wiith.    
EB: oh, uh, sorry. he didn’t feel the same, i guess?    
TA: you are 2o DUMB.  
TA: you know what? talk two hiim.

\-- twinArmageddons [TA] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \-- 

John closed the window, leaving only one blinking box on his screen. Rose would have to wait until he texted Karl. He wasn’t really expecting a reply anytime soon, considering how Karl had been giving him the silent treatment when he dropped him off just over half an hour ago. So he sent his apology, extending the olive branch of peace and resisted the growing urge to ask about what had happened with Soll:

 _hey karl. i know you probably don’t want to hear from me right now. i’m sorry you didn’t like what i said at the theatre and i’m sorry we fought about it. i’m sorry that i think you’re a really awesome person and that you’ll fall in love one day. but i do, and you will. i don’t want to fight. i want to be here for you and be around you, but if that means agreeing with your view of yourself, i guess you’re just going to have to get use to the idea of a stalker. i’m not leaving you alone, even if you don’t want to be my friend._

It probably wasn’t what Karl was looking for, but he’d have to be satisfied with that. John wasn’t going to be okay with Karl hating himself. He wasn’t going to agree with or encourage that kind of thinking in any way. John waited a moment, watching his screen to see if it would light up with an instantaneous reply. Which was silly. If Karl wasn’t asleep already, he’d still need a minute or two to type out one of his long winded messages. That was, if Karl would even say anything at all. So John clicked the only other Pesterchum log left on his screen.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 23:17! -- 

TT: While your actions may suggest a subconscious need to protect someone you deem weaker than yourself, making that known though small acts of what would otherwise be considered affection to assert your role, I have a certain speculation that I’ve been meaning to flesh out. Please, allow me to elaborate.  
TT: Your suspected overtly friendly interactions with your close male friend, Karl Vantas, centering on a desire to engage in physical contact, may suggest a tilting on Alfred Kinsey’s Heterosexual-Homosexual Rating Scale from what you assumed to be a zero to what I propose is a one. I should also credit Wardell Pomeroy to the study, among others, though Kinsey is the namesake through his predominant contributions.   
EB: um i’m not gay, rose!

He wondered who had gone and blabbed to Rose about what had gone on to make her start psychobabbling at him, but figured it had to have been Dave. That was one way to get back at him for not replying, or to express his concern for John’s obvious distress when he was freaking out earlier. While he often came out of a conversation with Rose more confused than he came in, she did her best efforts to address key emotional problems. Not that John wanted to get it all out in the open that night. He was tired and befuddled and not ready for big words, but it was happening. And he was pretty sure Rose called him gay. The next time John had emotional dirt on Dave, it would be going straight to their would-be psychologist.

His phone buzzed before Rose pestered back. A block of all caps greeted him and he really couldn’t help but smile that Karl didn’t hate him enough to just keep ignoring him.

 _JOHN. YOU’RE A FUCKING IDIOT TO THINK THAT ONE ARGUMENT WOULD RUIN US. REAL LIFE INTERACTIONS HAVE MADE YOU NOT ONLY SOFT, BUT APPARENTLY REPRESS HOW MANY TIMES I’VE WANTED TO STRANGLE YOU BEFORE TONIGHT. HONESTLY, DO YOU EVEN RECALL HOW MANY TIMES YOU’VE PISSED ME OFF ONLINE? I’M SURE GUINNESS WOULD BE IMPRESSED WITH THE RECORD BREAKING NUMBER OF PESTERLOGS WE’VE HAD THAT HAVE INCLUDED DEATH THREATS, GROTESQUE SEXUAL QUIPS OF WHERE YOUR HEAD MAY BE SHOVED, AND CREATIVE METAPHORS WITH THE TOPIC OF CHOICE BEING HOW TRULY STUPID YOU ARE. THIS BEING ALMOST ENTIRELY ON MY PART. WE FOUGHT. BIG DEAL. WE’LL PROBABLY FIGHT TOMORROW._

 _but i don’t want to fight with you._

John didn’t want to think that they’d just bicker every single time they met. There had been moments of just smiling and laughing already and, once they really figured each other out, John was sure they could be happy. While he waited for Karl to respond to his short note, he checked back on Rose. That had been a mistake. He groaned at the direction she had taken, not sure if just telling her he was pretty sure he was heterosexual— his credentials of being exclusively attracted to women and having dated three girls in the past should have spoken for themselves—would make her stop.

TT: So nice of you to join me. Of course, I’m not suggesting you are strictly one way. As the world is not divided into black and white, it has been theorized that there are many shades in sexual orientation. While this is admittedly not the field in which I have extensive knowledge on, it is safe to say there are not just two options. One may be predominantly one orientation while incidentally the other under certain conditions, balanced between the two, or other degrees in between. I’m suggesting primary heterosexuality and an instance of homosexuality with the appearance of a man you find attractive. While this is a relevant study, it in no way means the scale is comprehensive enough to cover the full spectrum of sexual identity issues. Just humor me.   
EB: i don’t really feel comfortable with this.

So Rose was saying he was just a little bit gay and for Karl. John didn’t feel like he was any different than before, except now someone was trying to put a name to nervousness and hand holding. It was way too late in the day for something this heavy to be dropped on him. He was tired and just wanted to go to bed, but now he was going to be up for hours just thinking about what Rose was talking about. At least there was some comfort in Karl continuing to text him, assuring that John was still himself.

 _YOU ARE THE SAME JOHN YOU WERE AN HOUR AGO. THE CHANCES OF ME AT LEAST YELLING ARE NEARING THE ONE HUNDRED PERCENT POINT ON THE BEST OF DAYS. IT’S JUST A PART OF ME YOU’LL HAVE TO GET USE TO SO LONG AS YOU WANT TO KNOW ME. I CAN TRY TO NOT BE SO ANGRY BUT I DON’T KNOW HOW EFFECTIVE THAT WILL BE. DO YOU WANT TO HELP ME GET MY STUFF FROM FOSTER DAD’S TOMORROW AFTERNOON?_

 _okay. i could pick you up a bit early and we could grab a coffee?_

 _I’M BUYING, ASSHOLE._

 _not if i have anything to say about it!_

John grinned, wondering if Karl was sitting in his room half an hour away, smiling at his phone too. His good mood didn’t last long as he looked back up to the computer to check on Rose’s analysis. If he thought he had been uncomfortable with the suggestion of being gay, he was fully in discomfort now. John was pretty sure his friend was talking about having sex.

TT: You’ve found the opposite sex attractive to the point of establishing fleeting relationships with the best intention to, what I presume to be your “end game”, copulate or varying degrees of foreplay. This is regular in adolescence, I assure you. You know what attraction feels like based on experience, and are able to distinguish what your “type” is. Correct?   
EB: uh, if that means do i know who i think is pretty, then yeah.   
TT: Good. So when you think someone is “pretty”, do you find yourself wanting to, just strictly as a basic example, engage in a plethora of various forms of touching?   
EB: i guess? with any girl i dated i wanted to, uh, okay.   
TT: I take that as a yes. The next question will require some thought, as you may have to attempt to place yourself in a mindset not fixed on gender roles. I understand that heterosexuality is the norm, while being anything but is and has been seen as abnormal. While you are rather good with the idea of someone else going against the grain, you are very set on the gender you fancy. Try to keep an open mind when I ask you this:  
TT: Is Karl Vantas “pretty”?   
EB: duh! you’ve seen him!   
TT: Yes, he’s an attractive male by most standards, but is he your kind of “pretty”?

He tried to think of Karl how he thought of girls he liked, but it didn’t make sense. Karl was different and not only because he was a boy. He had always been different. Talking to him wasn’t like being with a girlfriend because Karl didn’t act like anyone he had even met before, much less the timid girls he had worked up the guts to talk to in his class. Karl was much more forward but at the same time even more shy. He had so many more layers and much more to him than those girls; there was no way he could compare them. John had never felt so absorbed with someone else before, so comparing just wasn’t working.

EB: i don’t know! i think he’s pretty but not pretty in the same way as i see girls, but in some ways he is? i don’t know what to do or what that means, because i’ve never thought about something like this before. like, rose, i might elope with his eyelashes and man, when he smiles i don’t know what to do. actually, i do. i almost ran a red light. and then he doesn’t think anyone could ever like him and it just drives me insane! i don’t feel any different from normal except i’m nervous and blushing a load around him now. i want to be bros but this is a bit weird.   
TT: If the opportunity were to present itself, and he felt a similar urge, would you theoretically kiss him?

Kiss Karl? It seemed so silly. Friends didn’t kiss! Could he even get close enough to do that without Karl freaking out over what the hell John thought he was doing? Could he get closer? Did he even want to? Even the thought of leaning in to touch those pouty lips with his fingers had his cheeks burning. It was so embarrassing! His heart hammered in his chest, not even over the act that Rose had suggested. He would probably just die if he thought really hard about kissing his best friend. What he settled on was what those eyelashes feel like fluttering closed against his cheek—oh gosh. _Oh man._ There was nothing ‘no homo’ about what he was thinking.

EB: oh my god. i really don’t need to think about this right now! i’m having a hard enough time just getting past holding his hand.   
TT: You don’t necessarily have to get past it, John. You could embrace this new-found side of you, or repress it if you so desire. But conceivably, does the thought disgust you or just make you uncomfortable?   
EB: uncomfortable!   
TT: I think you have plenty to think about tonight. We’ll discuss this more when you’re ready.  
EB: do we have to????????   
TT: Well, you could always keep making yourself uncomfortable and continue to ask Dave for advice, which I’m sure will go over well. Did he happen to show you those charming baby pictures that he took the time to fabricate yet? I’m sure that’s done a lot of good to assist you in understanding how you feel so far. Goodnight, John.  
EB: you suck, this is your fault and now you’re leaving me alone with these thoughts.  
EB: night.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \-- 

John shut down his computer and busied himself by getting ready for bed. Totally not thinking about treating a guy like how he would treat a girl. He really wanted to go back in time to before Rose decided to bring up that he might have a tad of homosexual feelings in him for a certain white haired friend who didn’t wear sunglasses. He wanted to go back to when he thought hand holding and thinking Karl was the most beautiful person he had even witnessed were just things anyone would do and see. But he couldn’t and he was stuck blushing scarlet while thinking about stupid things.

He felt like there should have been a monumental epiphany, when he just understood everything about himself, rather than just feeling weird. How did Soll deal with having more than bro feelings for Karl? Not that they had the same feelings. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do about maybe kind of liking Karl a little bit. Sort of. Maybe he and Soll could talk about it sometimes. Perhaps after he slept on it he’d figure out it was just some fleeting, one day thing. John wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

Sleep proved impossible, even when John had arranged himself for optimum comfort levels. His mind just kept running over lines of complicated text that—through things John didn’t understand—suggested something he hadn’t thought was possible. His happily ever after had always ended with a girl’s hand in his. Once upon a time, he had thought that Rose could be the one. Then maybe Viki. But thinking about just one complicated, hurting boy and how it might be okay to hold his hand instead had everything in disarray.

Having had removed his glasses and, after not bothering to put them back on, he successfully grabbed his phone off the bedside table after a couple of tries. He could see the phone just fine when he put it right in front of his face. Once it was suspended there, he didn’t know what to say.

 _hey, if it’s okay, can i ask what happened with soll?_

That was stupid. Karl was probably asleep by now and the subject was pretty weird. No one wanted to talk about confessions late at night. His phone lit up just as he moved to set it back down; or not.

 _IT’S KIND OF PERSONAL AND I DON’T FEEL REALLY COMFORTABLE TALKING ABOUT IT. NOT LIKE I’M REALLY FREAKING OUT OR ANYTHING BUT OUT OF RESPECT FOR HIM, SINCE HE MIGHT WANT TO KEEP WHAT WE TALKED ABOUT BETWEEN JUST THE TWO OF US. DID HE SAY ANYTHING TO YOU?_

 _that he likes you and you turned him down?_

 _SHIT. I GUESS I HAVE TO BITE THE BULLET AND TALK TO HIM ABOUT IT SINCE HE’S PROBABLY WALLOWING IN SELF PITY RIGHT ABOUT NOW. I JUST SORT OF CLOSED MY COMPUTER AFTER HE SAID IT BECAUSE I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY TO HIM AND IT WAS KIND OF SUDDEN. I ACTUALLY MIGHT BE FREAKING OUT MORE THAN I LET ON. THIS KIND OF THING HAS NEVER HAPPENED TO ME BEFORE, IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY GUESSED. I MEAN THIS BEING REAL, NOT WHEN IT WAS SOME ELABORATE PRANK THOUGHT UP BY THE FOOTBALL TEAM THAT NEVER GOT ANYWHERE BECAUSE I FLAT OUT REJECTED THEIR CANDIDATE FOR MY ATTENTION. STANDARDS ARE A THING. I’LL TALK TO YOU TOMORROW._

 _yeah. i’m looking forward to seeing you! night, karl._

 _YES, SO LOOKING FORWARD TO PACKING UP THE REMAINING FEW BOXES OF JUNK LEFT IN THAT HOUSE. GOODNIGHT, JOHN._

John knew it was probably in both of their best interests for him not to bring up his maybe-feelings, for sure not until he understood what was going on inside himself first. Karl was obviously surprised and trying to deal with one male friend confessing, he didn’t need another tagging along to throw his would-be affection into the running as well. Not that there was a running for Karl, or that Karl was even up for grabs, especially by two other men. Or that either of those guys wanted to do whatever guys did when they liked other guys.

He cursed Rose Lalonde to high heaven for being an extreme meddler, on par with the likes of Kaya, while trying desperately to go to sleep and forget what had happened for at least for a handful of hours.

 

“Are you sure it’s okay to go up there?” John asked, looking up the stairs with Karl’s temporary foster mom, Anne. He had arrived pretty early, considering he hadn’t slept very well and had spent too much time getting ready. He blamed that on Rose too, as he would blame her for everything that went wrong for the next few days. He hadn’t spent so much time trying to fix his hair since picture day for his graduation photo. His hair looked the same as always. He had gone through all his clothes and decided he needed to get better clothes, so he settled on jeans and a shirt. He wiped his shoes down with a facecloth so they weren’t covered with flour from his job a grocery store bakery, so at least those were somewhat presentable. His dad thought he was acting strangely, though commended him on waking up at seven despite it being summer break.

He was acting strangely and the nerves were back for a starring role in their sequel performance in Nerves II: John May Be Slightly Into His Grumpy Friend, Thanks Rose. _Not._

“You’d know better than I would if that boy bites.” She winked. _Oh god._ Was she just messing with him or did she know? Did gay like, have a smell or something? Did gaydar work if someone wasn’t even positive about liking another guy for the first time? He really wanted to turn around and leave. This was so stupid. “He’s been singing for a while now, about time someone interrupts.” That was just enough initiative to not run away. He could never resist a good prank opportunity. He climbed the stairs, following the muffled sound of someone’s voice more than the directions Anne had given him.

John opened the bedroom door to the scene of Karl singing—he was actually really good!—along to another of his terrible girl songs that he liked not even ironically. With large headphones attached to the slim mp3 player sticking halfway out of his pocket, Karl obliviously folded laundry neatly and kind of way too perfectly as he swayed. How he was even folding things that quickly with one hand was beyond John. The music was loud enough that he could hear it over his friend which meant it had to be blaring. He broke out into a smile; trust Karl to crank Miley Cyrus.

“So I put my hands up, they’re playing my song, and the butterflies fly away. I’m noddin’ my head like yeah, I’m movin’ my hips like yeah.” And Karl moved his hips. He moved his hips like _yeah_. John kind of stared because where had he learnt to do _that_? It was really kind of distracting!

John didn’t make an effort to interrupt until the chorus came up and those hips rocked side to side again. Interruption in the form of grabbing the other boy’s hips. In retrospect, he probably should have said ‘no homo’ sometime to keep up the pretense so he didn’t alert his friend on his gaybe feelings. Karl squealed, which he attempted to cover up with profanities. The headphones were off and the music stopped in a second. “Holy fucking— are you trying to give me a heart attack on top of all my other problems? You almost succeeded. Next time try being an even bigger creep, if that’s even possible, and I will die where I stand. Why are you still touching me?”

“Hehe, sorry about that.” John let his hands drop from their spot on dark blue jeans, swinging them back to safety at his sides. Karl shouldn’t have been allowed to look so effortlessly fantastic in a black t-shirt and pants with holes on the knees, but he did. John caught himself before he had been staring too long, snapping attention back into those angry eyes that just made everything better and worse at the same time. What he would have shrugged off just the other day now blossomed in his chest, making him giddy and terrified. “But man, Karl, I was surprised you could move like that!”

“What? Anyone can do that, whatever.” Karl quickly busied himself with a towel before John could protest. He was pretty sure he couldn’t swing his hips around! He kind of wiggled a bit in place, just to see if he was as inflexible as he suspected; definitely not everyone in the world could do that. Karl turned back and John gave him his best innocently interested face. He wasn’t doing anything. Nope. “You’re early. Stop interrupting while I finish this laundry.”

“You’re folding them crazy,” John pointed out as Karl used both the bed and his immobile arm to guide fabric into tight squares.

“Fuck you, I’m folding them like how people should fold clothes, and I’ve had lots of fucking practice so I can’t _not_ fold clothes correctly.” John wanted to ask about where he had the chance to hone his folding skills but by the time he caught himself just watching Karl’s hands, the moment had passed.

“Hey, how did things go with Soll?” Karl dropped the shirt in his hands and John quickly retrieved it.

“Uh, okay. I’m not sure what’s happening with that. We talked a bit on Pesterchum about it being a bit out of the blue for me, since I apparently didn’t notice any hints to that in half a decade, and that I couldn’t return his feelings since I—never mind. I just couldn’t give him what he wanted, which he expected. He wants to come and visit with Aria and maybe some other people who live close by that we know, so I said I’d talk to you about that.” John was just really excited about the thought of meeting more of his friends. He knew he was smiling like a moron, because Karl just rolled his eyes and kept working on the few remaining items in his laundry basket.

“Wow, really?” He felt a little sad that Rose, Dave and Jade lived so far away. Flying in would make the most sense and he couldn’t expect them to do that just to say hi. But that was okay. Maybe Teri and Viki would make the long drive from Arizona. He was pretty sure Kaya lived out east, and she might even be near where Soll and Aria were.

“That is what he wanted to know.” Karl shrugged, heading towards a cardboard box with a stack if clothes before making his way to the dresser. John wanted to say of course that was totally cool, and would have said as much if not for Soll just admitting to being in love with Karl. There was a part of John that really didn’t want Soll to meet Karl in person, regardless of how much he accepted the feelings he had weren’t mutual.

“Would that be weird? You know, with him having a thing for you?” He wanted to keep Karl to himself and not give anyone else the opportunity to take him away, which made him feel like a jerk. Soll had always been Karl’s friend, and John really didn’t have the right to prevent them from an overdue bro-fist; his brain speculated on Soll trying to make a move and he kind of started to freak out. He really didn’t need to think of a challenger appearing while he was trying to work out just what exactly was going on with his own feelings.

“No? I don’t think so. I don’t think there’s much he could do to change my mind, at this point.” That was a good sign, at least in one way. If John did explode little hearts everywhere, Karl seemed like he’d be okay with hearing him out before rejecting him too. It didn’t seem like it would ruin their totally awesome friendship, which John really was satisfied with. If he was entertaining the idea of Soll visiting, then he might just shrug off John thinking he was beautiful. “Did you sort your thing out?”

“What thing?” Karl scrunched up his face and he was just so cute right then John almost had to boop his nose. It was crazy how adorable a guy could be without even trying. John would have never thought he’d be okay with maybe crushing on a dude or rather, never imagined he’d think about it in the first place. It had never crossed his mind, never been a possibility. But there it was and it was okay, or it would be, because his friends would help him through it and he was sure his dad would just want what was best for him.

“The thing that you didn’t want to talk to me about.” _Oh._ John coughed, feeling way too warm. He had just been caught thinking about that very thing.

“Haha, uh, sort of? Maybe. I might have an idea as to what it is, but I have to wait and see.” The way Karl furrowed his eyebrows and set his lips into a pouty frown prompted Rose’s most uncomfortable question: would you theoretically kiss him? His eyes fell to Karl’s mouth—red and still irritated around the split—and he flicked his tongue over his own lips nervously. Looking at his friend and running that conversation through his head, there was no denying that he would very much consider what to do with a chance to get that close. “I think Rose is probably right.”

“Don’t let her know that she actually helped you. She will never let you live it down. Whenever you complain about her being too much of a noisy, condescending bitch for her own good, she will remind you of the time that she helped you with your personal thing when you were seventeen. You’ll be old and grey, in some old folks home your grandkids stuffed you in, and Lalonde will call you up out of the blue and go on and on about her practice of being a good Samaritan when you were young. What the fuck are you smiling about?”

“Just you,” John sort of sighed, causing Karl to huff and shove him slightly on the shoulder. John fought back the urge to grab the hand when it made contact— _woah_ , how had he not gotten these feelings worked out on his own? They were kind of obvious after Dave and Rose had figured them out.

“Alright then, if staring at me in a daze is what makes you happy, enjoy the tapestry of annoyance that is my face. See this look I’m giving you, right at this very moment? This is annoyed. Pay attention. Want to go get coffee? I could use it after last night’s long discussion with Soll over his feelings and my feelings and all the feelings that had ever been or ever will be. Also, be reminded that I’m buying before you get any ideas about being generous again. Leave your wallet in your glove box or somewhere to deter you from throwing cash in every which way. I swear if you do that again, I will take full advantage.”

“No you won’t.”

“No I won’t. Fuck off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Did I do something? Did I make plot happen? Is John’s making some progress into some maybe gay-ish feelings for his desu boy-toy Karl? Why yes, I think that’s what’s going on. I was tired of his being dumb about thinking boys making out wasn’t gay. Thank you, Rose, for really making our dear teenage protagonist question his sexuality. About time she showed up to do what she always does: annoy me and get shit done. I want the most cliché fic. I want to win the John x Karkat Bingo every way I can. So, let’s get this relationship ball rollin’! And by rollin’, I mean nowhere! Ha. Haha. This wouldn’t happen if I had an editor to tell me I make no sense. I blame everyone but me. Too bad you can’t reverse kudos, amirite?


	9. In Which Karl Vantas Gets Some Stuff

The first thing Karl noticed after John had nearly given him a heart attack by invading his personal radius once again—words would be had shortly, serious words on how that may seem like an okay, albeit entirely too friendly thing to do to friend, but it was seriously not okay with him—was that he was acting differently. Not necessarily a in a bad way, it was really more annoying than anything, but something had changed from the other day. The goofy smile he usually wore much too proudly, like a badge proclaiming his idiocy to the general populous, was softer, slighter, and ever present between words, teeth only just visibly slipping to meet his bottom lip. Karl wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted John to smile that dumb, heart fluttering smile at him constantly or never again, because it just stirred up the feelings he still needed to get a hold on. Once he had a hold of them, he had all the intention of crushing them in underfoot to save John the otherwise inevitable honour of doing it himself.

With clothing extracted from the few cardboard boxes folded and placed neatly into two of four dresser drawers, and a cap secured on top his head, they were off to consume coffee. The bitter, addicting, nectar of the gods had kept him going through many sleepless nights and it seemed like a perfectly harmless activity for two people. Anne saw them off, asking if Karl would be home for a lunch, which he responded with doubt. Knowing himself and knowing John, some kind of shenanigans would happen to delay his getting home in reasonable time. The drive would take an hour each way and, with coffee and throwing his books and shit into boxes, they’d probably just stop for something quick to eat. She in turn invited John for dinner, inquiring as to what they’d like to have. After both boys insisted she didn’t need to trouble herself and a few sweet smiled were thrown around—by John and Anne, while Karl mostly glared—they had a scheduled appointment to eat some homemade pizza at six with the possibility of John staying the night. Apparently Anne hadn’t listened at all when Karl had poured his heart and soul out to her about his impossibly long, one sided crush on his best friend.

“How are you feeling, Karl?” John asked once they were on the road. Karl hadn’t realized he had been so wound up until he was well into a stupid rant, regret building as he let his mouth do the thinking. Nothing good ever came from that: it had caused him to move foster homes on more than one occasion; had started the rather one sided fights between him and a particular group of assholes at school, also frequently because his mouth never fucking learned its lesson the first few times; and was working hard to destroy his friendship with the boy of his dreams. Karl pretty much wanted to punch himself in the mouth until he caused some irreparable damage and had his jaw wired shut for the rest of forever.

“Referring to physically or emotionally? Granted, they both pretty much have the same answer: like shit. Not like that’s a real stretch from my normal state in either. Basically these last few months have been a shit sundae of _what the fuck is going on with my life_ and the last few days are the excess of whipped cream that isn’t even needed because there’s already so much excrement flavoured ice-cream, which is bad enough, but might as well just throw it on there since I’m going for it. There is just a ton of it and then I throw on the toppings for good measure. Soll is the nuts; he just scattered sporadically there with wanting to let me know how he always felt so I might come to terms actually having misguided affections directed towards me. He wasn’t trying to upset or pressure or confuse me, just let me know that apparently someone out there does care, but it’s hard to expect someone to act like nothing happened when something really did. Also, you can be the cherry just sitting right on top of the pile, sickeningly sweet and kind of small in comparison to the rest of the shitty life sundae, but so blindingly red that it’s impossible not to notice. In case you didn’t get that, I pretty much want to drown my sorrow and self-pity in frozen dairy.”

“I... I’m sorry.” John started, keeping his eyes on the road for the most part but daring to flick a sad glance, lips shaped in a tight frown that Karl had put there. Karl groaned at his own display, wishing that he could turn back time to avoid making a huge scene. If he could do that though, manipulate time, he’d abuse that power and just go back to before he was born and stress to his still alive parents that aborting him would be the best for everyone. At least they’d be alive. John kept talking. “I don’t want to add to it and I really don’t want to make it worse. I don’t know about what you went through except for kind of with your last foster dad and... what happened to your mom. It’s just snippets of your life. I don’t know everything you don’t want to talk about or what you aren’t comfortable doing, but I want to know. What I’m saying is, I don’t want to be the cherry, I want to uh, help you eat the sundae problems? That sounded dumb, but I want things to be better between us.” Karl couldn’t stop the short laugh any more than he could stop his eyes from softening. John Egbert really knew how to kill a mood, even when he was trying to be completely serious.

“And you have the gall to call me adorable,” Karl said with a sigh, forgetting that sudden spurt of anger that has conjured up the last metaphor. There was no way he deserved all the credit for that one so he placed partial blame on the heat. While he continued to jump into another long winded explanation, the tone was a lot lighter than the one previously used. He may have even started off smiling briefly. “Okay, since we’ve already started, I’m going to let you in on something that really shouldn’t be a secret at this point, but you don’t seem to be grasping the concept. The concept is just out of your reach and instead of using your net like any other little boy to pluck it out of the air you’re trying to catch it with your hands.

“Speaking of your hands, touching is not okay with me and, more specifically, sudden touching I have no control over. Before you ask the reason, I will practically spell it out for you out of my sheer generosity to allow your brain to continue vacationing away from your skull: people have hurt me and basically I panic if someone makes any kind of move towards my person. I don’t know what they’re going to do and instinctively make the connection to getting hurt first, since it has happened more than a few times. I need my space, John. If you absolutely for some reason have to place your hands on my body, you fucking ask me first.” It was out in the open now instead of just in the grind of Karl’s teeth or in the way he shifted away from other people. John had been thoroughly schooled.

“Okay.” That was... easy. Karl was surprised that was all it took and, while he hadn’t known what to expect as a reaction, this wasn’t really it. Just a confirming nod and John had apparently understood the hands off (unless given permission) rule. Maybe his mouth had a point on a rare occasion.

“Okay as in you get it?” Karl checked just to make sure they had both gotten what was being agreed upon. John slowed at a four way stop, halting fully before offering one of those heart palpitating smiles of his. If he ended up in the hospital for heart problems because of feelings for this beautiful asshole, he was going to be so pissed off.

“Okay, as in thank you for telling me that you’re uncomfortable with it, not just because you’re not use to it, which is what I was thinking. Okay as in I won’t touch you without your permission and will ask you next time. So yeah, okay as in I get it.” Karl bit the inside of his cheek at the knowledge John wasn’t just going to cease contact entirely with him. Someone really needed to shake Karl and tell to get over himself. This thing for the other boy was really getting out of hand, not that it hadn’t been pretty out of hand for the past four years. “I’m kind of a touchy-feely person. I like hugs and uh, holding hands, and stuff like that, because it makes me feel happy, but I don’t want to do that if it scares you.”

“You should probably not want to hold my hand for other reasons, but thank you, I guess,” Karl said, not missing the way John’s face darkened to a nice pink at the insinuation. He felt a little proud at the accomplishment—not that it was much of one, since they both seemed to be the type of person to get frazzled at even the littlest of things—but more disgusted with himself for purposely trying to suggest things that would make John uncomfortable. Just because John’s sexuality pissed him off to the ends of the Earth didn’t mean he needed to be making jabs at it. “Why do we have all these conversations in your car? Your car has seen exorbitant amounts of bullshit already.”

“We’ve spent a lot of time in the car and it just keeps happening because it’s kind of a good time to talk about stuff,” John replied, not that Karl had really been expecting much of an answer. “And it isn’t bullshit, it’s your life. I’m happy to know what you’re okay with and what you’re uncomfortable with, because I don’t want to do stuff that makes you upset. I’ll probably mess up again, but I really honestly don’t want to hurt you.” Karl promptly joined John just in time for the blushing. They were doing it like it was going out of style. His teeth promptly closed down on his tongue to avoid saying something he wouldn’t be able to take back. It would ruin what they had and it would make John uncomfortable regardless to how much he wanted to get to know who Karl was. So much of what Karl was, when he was just sitting in a hot car while John switched between radio stations to try and find something decent to listen to, was just a boy, terrified to be in love with another boy.

 

Karl had his debit card in hand when they stepped up to the counter. After the long trip into Tacoma, spent mostly arguing about what to do after dinner with Anne and Gilbert, they had decided on one of about ten Starbucks located since they could hardly drive a block without running into one. The multimillion dollar chain had won again with its persist presence and high priced beverage. After insisting a dozen times that it must be done, John stood right beside him while his wallet remained secure in the glove boxes of his locked car. He was going to have to just accept he wasn’t going to just get to treat Karl twice in a row.

“Hello, what can I get for you?” The barista asked cheerfully, probably in a good mood since the morning bustle was done and it was not quite late enough for the lunch rush. While frowning up at the chalk board listing beverages, Karl weighed the options. It was warm out, and he had done that whole ice-cream rant, so he may as well go with that. John waited patiently for him to make up his mind.

“A double espresso and a grande Strawberries & Cream Frappuccino. John?” He turned his head when there wasn’t an immediate answer, only to find his friend choking back laughter. As soon as their eyes connected, the giggling pulled on whatever sort of mental reigns John had been holding. Things quickly turned into borderline hysterics, with John bent over to his knees in the middle of a half-full Starbucks. Karl and the barista exchanged looks that pretty much read ‘what the fuck?’ from her and ‘because he can’ from him. “Are you going to be finished any time soon or should I just leave you here and come back when you’re ready to not burst into laughter for no explainable reason?” John took a good thirty seconds to pull himself together, still grinning widely but composed enough to talk.

“Sorry, it was just way too cute to handle and so like you. Strawberries & Cream, Karl?” And John Egbert had called him cute for the millionth time, which in normal circumstances might constitute as flirting. What else was new? At least there wasn’t a line behind them this time.

“It’s fucking delicious. You’re a fool not to know the wonders of that bright pink frozen mouth orgasm. And I said I wanted ice-cream and this is a fancy milkshake with ice. Close enough. Order your drink before we actually start going on about this more than we already are.” The barista may or may not have sniggered at the pair of them. All respect for her went down the drain. If there had been a tip jar on the counter, he might very well have purposely ignored it.

“Um, just a tall coffee for me.” Karl elbowed him in the side because what the hell was that? Who even ordered just black coffee out of the staggering number of combinations Starbucks had to offer? That was entirely unacceptable. “Don’t look at me like that, Karl, I always get just coffee. It’s not like I’m trying to be cheap so you don’t have to buy me stuff.”

“A tall coffee and two of whatever cookie is the most delicious that you can guarantee doesn’t contain peanuts for this guy.” The barista nodded, punching in the numbers while John was apparently torn between whether his mouth wanted to be smiling or frowning. By the time he made up his mind to protest, Karl was holding a receipt and a little brown bag. He held the bag out, shaking it back and forth for good measure. “Eat the baked goods and enjoy them, because they have been purchased. You can’t let them go to waste.”

“Jeeze, you’re ridiculous. Thanks.” John’s coffee was ready first, since it required the least amount of effort possible. He picked it up and headed towards the station with all the straws and sweeteners. Karl watched in mild horror as he proceeded to grab a glass container and pour a stream of sugar into his coffee. And poured. And poured.

“Double espresso,” the barista said, taking his attention away from the travesty that was occurring only a few steps away. Immediately after the drink was set down, Karl picked it up and downed it, making a face after he swallowed. He tossed the cup in the trash can and listened to the loud blending of ice. His frappuccino was done before John finished with the sugar. “Strawberries & Creme Frappuccino.”

“Hey, you know, that does look really good,” John commented upon Karl’s arrival to take him away before he emptied the entire container into his drink. How it was not thick syrup by now was beyond Karl. “Where’d your other drink go?”

“I drank it, obviously.” They left the coffee house and proceeded to make way to their parking spot just down the road. Karl took a sip, grinning around the straw as John seemed transfixed by it. He forced his lips down before reprimanding the other. “Stop eying my cold beverage, John. It’s not my fault you had a lapse in judgement due to not being secure enough to look like even more of an idiot by carrying something very pink down the busy street. Are people even noticing? No, because that would just mean they don’t have enough of a life themselves to just go about their business instead of wondering about whatever we’re drinking and why. I am masculine enough to handle this fucking delicious frappuccino. How’s your diabetes inducing coffee?”

“Haha, darker than night and sweeter than sin. I’m working my way to drinking it black, seriously. You have no idea how much sugar I use to put in it before.” Karl really couldn’t imagine. John must have had to ask for a larger cup size so the sugar would not cause the coffee to overflow, or had stood there, alternating between mouthfuls and adding sweetener until it was sufficiently half of each. For someone who hated cakes so much, he sure was fond of sugar. Karl took another sip and John continued to watch while he did. Once he swallowed, he held the drink out, not oblivious to what his friend was after. “What?”

“Do you want to try it or not? You’ve been eyeing it this entire time; don’t tell me you’re not interested to save face. It beckons.” John sort of hesitantly looked around for a second, though apparently decided the pro of trying the drink outweighed the con of touching the straw Karl had been sucking on. John’s lips were on the thing Karl’s lips had been on, and would be on shortly thereafter. Karl was ashamed of the part of him that noted that it was an indirect kiss when John took a tentative sip. Indirect kiss was a term for lonely, desperate individuals to hope after. He would not think anything of this. John was fine with sharing drinks with other guys, apparently, though Karl was mildly surprised there wasn’t a ‘no homo’ involved.

“Man, that is good. Darn it. Okay. Can’t judge a drink by its colour.” When they were safely sitting in the inferno that John’s car had become in a few minutes out in the sun, John grinned nervously. “Uh, can I have another sip, if that’s okay?” A good quarter of his frappuccino was unaccounted for by the time they pulled into the parking lot of Karl’s former apartment complex five minutes later. Karl had long since stopped stressing over the slight levels of spit swapping going on all over one straw, that’s how ridiculous it was.

“If I had known I would be sharing this with you,” Karl started while John locked the door, Karl’s frappuccino in his hand now, “I would have gotten a vente. And two straws.” And if that didn’t conjure up the image of them sitting across from each other in Starbucks as if it was some 50’s soda shop, both drinking while grinning like love-struck idiots, Karl didn’t know what would. It really did seem more romantic with two straws.

“Haha, well I guess we’ll just have to do that next time. Oh, is that Mr. Smith?” Karl looked to where John was pointing and sure enough, his new social worker was waiting by the door of the complex. How the hell had Karl not remembered a last name like ‘Smith’?

“Hi Karl, John. Are you ready to head up?” He spoke with a smile, not at all phased by Karl bringing someone else along or that they were slightly late. He seemed pretty easy going, which was a pleasant change from some of the adults he had had to deal with. “There are boxes already in the apartment to use. At any point, if you feel uncomfortable being in there, please let me know. You can take as much time as you need.” Karl nodded, really wanting to just get it over with and grab the few things he had.

“As long as he’s not fucking there, I’ll be ecstatic to get my stuff out of this shithole.” Karl said, drawing his key card out and opening the door. He was sure Mr. Smith also had one, due to getting his clothes the other day, but apparently it was up to Karl to make the first step. As they walked up flight of stairs to the second floor, Karl stopped at a loud slurping sound. “John, seriously, give me back my drink. When did you even have time to drink your coffee in five minutes when most of the time you were clutching on to mine like your life depended on it?”

“Bluh, sorry. It’s just really good,” John apologetically flashed him some puppy dog eyes in attempts to appease any grudge Karl may be forming before the fappuccino was with its rightful owner. He proceeded to finish it off before getting to the door to his former place, throwing the empty cup absently into the partially full sick upon entering. He didn’t watch to make sure it got in, busy making a beeline straight through the living room to one of three doors. He hardly gave himself enough time to even process the empty space where a table had been or few speckles of dark red staining the carpet. John followed him moments later with flat boxes in hand, Mr. Smith appearing soon after.

“Okay. Start grabbing books,” Karl instructed, pointing to one of two full shelves. They all got to it, understanding that the less time Karl spent there, the better.

The works of Jane Austen and William Shakespeare were shelved alongside dog-eared copies of Stephenie Meyer’s _Twilight Saga_ and a couple trashy harlequins, the kind they sold for a couple of dollars that had just terrible titles like _A Bride for His Majesty's Pleasure_ and _Bargained Into Her Boss's Bed_. The cashier had given him such a condescending look when he had dropped them on her counter along with _Jane Eyre_ and _Sweet Starfire_. He had glared all of his distaste her way, daring her to comment on his skewing the teenage male shopping demographic, and only slightly wondering how much of an employee discount was given at that particular bookstore. His twenty-five page list of books to read before his body finally quit his miserable excuse for a life wasn’t going to pay for itself, after all.

One shred of luck in his otherwise pre-John life was that his albinism had not fucked up his eyes to the point where he couldn’t read. Granted, he needed the right light and sometimes a magnifying type device depending on the type size of the novel was. The world was fuzzy around the edges, lacking a fine detail, because the nerve pathways to his brain decided to not function correctly. His eyes were good enough that he was hesitantly approved that, if he ever chose to, he could one day drive. Karl probably wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of John in any finer detail.

They keep working steadily, or at least Karl did. Quite the number of books they packed away also had a pair on Karl’s movie bookcase: _The Time Traveler’s Wife, The Notebook, A Walk to Remember, Gone With the Wind, The Princess Bride_ and dozens more. Works of art and new age drama and romcoms that were terribly bad in the most satisfying way, all kept together with no separation because Karl just saw them as ‘romance’ and he consumed the genre with a feverous gusto. They were like old friends, had seen him though his darkest days and he felt comforted as he placed them away. John kept getting distracted.

“Gosh, who are you?” John asked, eyes scanning over the back cover of Leo Tolstoy’s _Anna Karenina_ held in his left hand before looking with equal amazement at Cecelia Ahern’s _P.S. I Love You_. Mr. Smith was running a box of random stuff down to John’s car, so apparently that meant it was time to be dumb.

“Fuck off and put those in a box.” He did so, only to grab a copy of _Romeo and Juliet_ , which Karl owned despite its inclusion in the bound set of Shakespeare’s works he had. One reason for the double was that the single play had a larger font. The other reason was because it was as fantastic as it was gut wrenchingly tragic.

“So you like this? All _Oh Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?_ ” John began, and Karl fought with himself to not finish that particular famous piece of the play to prove his interest. He lost.

“ _Deny thy father and refuse thy name; or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Capulet. ‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy; thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name which is no part of thee take all myself._ Yeah. I like it.” John stared. Where the hell was Smith? At least Karl tried to keep somewhat quiet around the social worker. Instead, he was downstairs and Karl was spouting off Shakespeare like there was no tomorrow.

“Woah. You memorized it?” John sounded kind of impressed. Karl looked over to where his friend was sitting on the floor, moving the lower shelves into the box beside him. The temperature had really gone up since the other day and, from the way John’s cheeks were permanently stained, he was feeling the heat too. Karl contemplated fanning himself with his hat but instead he just tossed it on top of his now stripped bed, running a hand through his stick hair; he grimaced and hoped John wouldn’t mind him abandoning him long enough to take a shower sometime in the evening. While he could turn on the air conditioning, the heat really gave him more motivation to get the hell out of the apartment. Contrary to how he insisted on being fine, he couldn’t help remember the way the pounding on the door that night had been so like the pounding in his ears when he realized he had no way out but to go past _him_.

“Sort of. Mostly just the exchanges between Romeo and Juliet with any confidence. It’s like you memorizing lines from your awful Nickolas Cage movies, except for this is legitimate writing.” Karl pushed the memories away to somewhere he could deal with when he was alone so as not to flip out on his best friend/crush once again. It’d probably resurface at the worst possible time, causing him to curse why the past him thought that repressing shit had ever been a good idea, but he’d deal with it when that time came. He moved over to help John finish with the second bookcase, since he was obviously too unfocused to be productive.

“I don’t really get the whole doth thee loveth thine bedchamber medieval writing stuff.” There was no excuse for any of what John had said, a bit hot out or otherwise. Karl kicked him slightly with his foot in mock rage until John grabbed on to the limb with both hands and refused to let go for a good three seconds until his eyes went huge and he scooted back a good two feet. “Sorry. Gosh, sorry. We just went over this.”

“Whatever, I started it so it’s fine to go with it to a point. I’ll let you know if it’s uncomfortable for me.” Karl nudged him again and John hesitantly prodded his foot. “Back to the point, I can’t even process any of what you just said. Do you love your bedroom? That’s the thing you decided to go with out of all the possibilities? You could have at least thought of another famous quote from the period, as there are thousands. And Shakespeare is part of the fucking English Renaissance theatre literary movement, not to mention was born in the 16th century, not the Middle Ages. Did you even attend school?”

“Jeeze, Shakespeare wasn’t exactly my favourite thing, okay. I can’t even understand it. And you say the first fancy English thing you can think of.” They were both working on the same shelf, John still sitting while Karl took to kneeling. He turned to deliver his answer to the challenge, stomach in knots over how much he wanted to say the very words to John in honesty.

“ _Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all; what hast thou then more than thou hadst before? No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call; all mine was thine before thou hadst this more._ ” It would be way too much of a declaration if he didn’t finish with some kind of note that it was just a response, but Karl let it sit for a moment so he might wonder what may come from such words. For a moment, he thought of some fairytale happiness from the storybooks his mom used to read him at night. He let himself take that small instance, let what ifs rein over him before trampling them into the dirt of reality. And in reality, John seemed to not be breathing, caught staring at Karl with rather huge, gorgeous blue eyes. And they were so close, just so close that it ached down to his core. What the fuck was wrong with both of them? “Is the first fancy English thing I can think of.”

“No fair. You’re quoting.” The words were soft, quiet in the slight space between them. Mr. Smith decided to return for another box before they just kept staring at each other forever, giving Karl the excuse to stand up. “Uh, you don’t have a lot of anything other than romantic stuff in various media. I’m kind of fighting back the urge to call you adorable again.” John kind of babbled, rushing to pack up the last few novels. Smith raised an eyebrow and Karl just shook his head. No. Everything was too stupid to explain. “Wait, what’s this one?”

“Put the book back in the box,” Karl snapped. John just sat perfectly still and Karl really couldn’t believe he was going where he was going to make John stop acting weird. “I said, put the book back in the box.”

“Did you just—you totally did. I thought you didn’t pay attention when I was talking about my movies at all. Hey, we could swing by my house on the way back to your place and get my stuff. We can totally have a marathon and start it off with Con Air. It would be so cool!”

“Shh, never.” Which translated into a definite yes, despite how Karl had no intention of putting up with bad 90’s action movies. The things he did for John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in shock and awe over how many kudos this has. Shocked. And. Awed. It’s happening right here. Seriously beautiful internet people, I was a little bit freaking out when 50 happened and now it’s like, curl up in a ball and foam at the mouth time. Too nice. Also, I like how I had over half of the next chapter written when I started writing this one. Will they synch up? Who knows! Did it anyways. That’s the kind of sporadic person I am. Do they kiss? Oh internet people, no. They never kiss. Nothing happens in this story. Nothing. You get drinking from the same drink. That's it.
> 
> I keep thinking of other stories to write and I do need to stop until this is all over and done with, which won’t be soon. I have a fantasy JohnKat sort of planned out that I may write and by which I mean I have most of a chapter finished and the title... Then there’s Homestruction, which is what I think about when insulation/painting/tiling/cleaning up after people which has so far involve throwing out a lot of drywall and sweeping floors about sixty-seven times. I’m working to get a house finished, how could I not think of Karkat wearing a full painter’s jumpsuit and taking all of his jobs far too seriously? It’d be like a home-building show, but with a lot of kissing! PERFECT. I will never write it.


	10. In Which John Egbert's Car is Plays the Part of Drama-mobile Again

It wasn’t too long before they were on the road again with four large boxes filled with books, DVDs and very little else tucked away in the trunk of John's car. At the pace they were going, they’d be back at Karl’s before mid-afternoon. It had been a little tense when the last of the items were being sorted through, Karl silently packing his life away in the place he least wanted to be. John had quietly asked if there was anything he could do to make it any easier, a slight shake of the head his only response. Mr. Smith kept assuring that he could save the rest for another day, he could take his time, but no, Karl was determined to finish. John kind of understood his friend just wanted to get the bad over with as quick as possible, despite how much he didn't want to do it. Like going to the dentist, not that this paralleled that experience to any degree expect they were both on the echeladder of sucking. But as much as John loathed the dentist, he had never been intentionally hurt there, to his knowledge.

Karl breathed out a long sigh of relief through the open window and John wondered if he was meant to hear it through the whipping wind. His heart thumped oddly in his chest when he glanced over, not entirely in the way he was used to when he like-liked someone. Yeah, he thought Karl was way attractive in a conventional sense and in other, strange ways like the way he wrinkled up his nose or when his face tried its best to match the colour of a tomato. Yeah, they got along really well, despite the all-caps ranting and misunderstandings of late. But when he usually had nervous flutters of feel-good emotions happening, this also hurt; there was also an ever present longing to fix everything wrong in Karl’s life, even when he didn’t know how or where to start. It hurt because he wasn’t sure if he could do anything at all, save express how badly he wanted to help. It hurt because he was sure that telling Karl how he was beginning to feel about him would just be adding another serving to the already heaping piles on his plate.

“You never have to go back there again.” Karl visibly flinched and, from the way he proceeded to huddle in on himself, John knew that had been said too soon. Karl was probably having a hard time trying to block the memory of being in that seemingly normal apartment out of his mind and John had just brought it back up again. That subject didn’t need to be addressed right away, so John pretended like he didn’t want to make a fuss and pull over. Asking for permission to hug him wouldn’t make Karl any less tense. “Hey, do you want to stop by my place and grab some stuff for our awesome movie night sleep over. Is that allowed? Like, do you have to stay in the car or are you allowed in the house or what? Um, did you still want me to come over? If not, I can drop you off. Whatever you want to do.”

“John. I’m not going to fucking break if we talk about things I don’t want to talk about. You don’t have to act so disgustingly passive just because I don’t want to dwell on the setting where some intoxicated former civil servant beat me up occasionally for a few months. I’ve been keeping it to myself, but since I’m doing a terrible job at that you’re trying to be nice to make me comfortable when what really needs to happen is for me to learn to stop opening my mouth and letting shit like this gingerly tumble out. You don’t need to accommodate me. I don’t deserve you in my life as it is.” If there was one thing John hated about Karl and it was how couldn’t see his own worth. There was so much value to him, so many great things that were there too, but all of the good that John saw was readily pushed away for the bad. He could reason out why, through the abuse and looking a little different, Karl had become negative. Other people pushed him down until that was all he thought he could merit. That didn’t mean John had to go along with it.

“God Karl, no. You deserve so much better than me. I’m just—” Karl swiftly interrupted, volume and speed overtaking John’s insistence.

“Trying to make it better, easier, for me and for yourself, because there are obvious problems arising the more these conversations happen, and they are happening pretty damn frequently considering I really don’t talk about this stuff to people. I’m sure that’s hard to imagine what with how I eagerly run my mouth like a cliché, preteen girl gabbing to her platonic girlfriend on the phone about schoolyard gossip or whatnot, but I don’t. You’re just trying to ignore that gaping hole in the centre of what we really know about each other and push through, which is easy when you just think about how we’ve been friends for years, except you’re finding—just like I’m finding—that we know shit about who the other is as a person. You’re just trying to be John, which is hard when I’m just so fucking Karl it’s impossible to interact even with you without losing it.” There was no bite to the rant, tone starting in an exhausted waver and breaking until the last few words were nothing more than choked sobs. Karl was saying maybe their friendship wasn’t going to work. Karl thought they were just too different. John’s heart picked up in a staggering tempo that made him feel physically ill; he had never disliked himself until finding out just how much he was messing up with the person who might possibly be _the one_.

“Karl, it’s not impossible. I’m not letting it be. You make it sound like we can’t be friends because we don’t know a whole lot about each other’s past, but that right there is what’s impossible, because we’re _best friends_ based on what we already know about one another. The rest is just more stuff. I’m not going to lie and say that the rest isn’t important, but it’s just more of what makes us who we are now. I’m not going to decide it’s too much work to get to know you because it’s hard. I’m sorry, Karl. I bet it’s tough to open up to someone, especially when it really does seem like you’re the only one being expected to reveal all your dark secrets. I’m sorry. Please don’t say we can’t be friends.” John blinked, trying to clear his rapidly blurring vision. He felt tears hanging precariously at the corners of his eyes and didn’t dare stray a glance from the road. If he did, he would see Karl crying again _because of him_.

“No, goddamn it no. Don’t be sorry. Stop being sorry for what I’m doing.” Finding that he couldn’t see the road when all the emotions were welling up in his eyes, John pulled the car over to the curb. He took half a second to prepare himself for the inevitable opening of his floodgates as soon as he looked at Karl. The look was nervous, met with such a miserably pained sadness that he just couldn’t take. Karl opened his mouth to protest, but John just started bawling out his frustration.

“You’re not doing anything! You’re hurt and I am the most insensitive person on the planet for talking about sleepovers and watching movies instead of finding out if you’re really alright! I want to be around you so badly and I’m messing things up even more and—” Karl hand promptly covered his mouth before he could continue.

“John Egbert, if you knew me at all you’d get that a night of movies and little sleep is the best fucking solution to any problem I might be having. Movies are my therapy when I’m not actually talking to a therapist or psychologist or Lalonde, who still insists on butting into my business despite the unspoken agreement that our tolerance for each other does not extend beyond barely contained indifference. They can go on for my allotted time or for bright purple paragraphs on how that is me trying to escape reality instead of facing whatever I’d rather not deal with, because dealing with it means talking to them about how I keep getting beat up for something I can’t change. But I don’t want you to be any of those people. I want you to be the idiot I can escape my head with. I want you to know me and not freak the fuck out over it, but you’re going to freak the fuck out over it, so I’m losing my shit here, in your car, again.” John hesitantly drew the hand from his mouth, closing his fingers around it lightly before hesitantly asking for permission with his eyes. Was it okay? Karl made no move to pull away.

“I just want to be that someone to support you. Even if whatever you want to say, or don’t want to say, makes us both uncomfortable, it doesn’t change us. It’s not going to come between what we already have.” Karl’s hand clutched on to his like he desperately wanted to believe him.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, John.” But he couldn’t. Karl doubted himself, thought that anything bad that could happen would. Pessimism was something Karl had grown accustomed to while isolating himself from the world. John was realizing that it stopped him from getting hurt if he only expected the worst; things could only go as terribly as he thought they would. It was a defense. Knowing that, not understanding but getting that that was how his friend got through his life, John shouldn’t have felt as terribly as he did at the uncertainty.

“Karl, I just...” Karl shook his head, indicating that John should stop. With a gesture, John found couldn’t say anything. Any bit of assurance he had that they would stay friends forever despite their differences and respective secrets died on his tongue. Any hope of saying just how much he cared for this boy and they could take on world together caught in his throat.

“I’m putting this conversation on hold until we’ve reached our final destination. Changing the subject to some idle bullshit while we continue our route to your house. Yes, we’re picking up your things, so long as your dad approves of your choice to continue your fraternization with the charity case soon, to be foster sibling. Not that I need to think about that. Movie and emotional past night is on the horizon and I’m sure we can quell my unconscious urge to regurgitate misery from the deepest recesses of my not very suppressed memories with your favourite actor’s attempts to display any sort of feeling. Let’s get to know each other in the more traditional, question based, nonsensical sense in the meantime.” Karl hesitated, rubbing his face free from teas as he fished for some normal question to ask. “What’s your favourite colo—blue. What the fuck am I doing?” John wiped his eyes, wanting to get down to the heart of the problem between them but knowing that he couldn’t push the subject. He had to let Karl take his time, had to be willing to match the other’s pace. Maybe, when Karl told him what was wrong then John could explain his recent emotional revelation too. Once everything was out in the open, things would hopefully be easier.

“Other than being painfully adorable just then? And yeah, you’re right.” John laughed lightly despite the heavy mood they had only just come out of, before working his way through the possibilities to ask Karl the same thing. “You do a lot of monochrome, but I think it’s more to avoid standing out than actually liking black and grey and shades. I can see you not even particularly favouring any colour, though. Do you have a favourite?”

“I do.” Out of the corner of his eye, in a fuzzy space where his lenses didn’t reach, John thought he could see Karl smile. “Blue.”

 

They exchanged questions for the rest of the trip to John’s house, learning little tidbits about each other. They didn’t ask anything substantial or probing, just stuff like bad habits ( _“Other than the glaring obvious? I bite my lip. I don’t think it’s ever going to heal. Does blushing count as a bad habit?”_ ), favourite singers ( _“Oh fuck, off the top of my head and in no particular order Frank Sinatra, Adele, Nat King Cole, Katy Perry, Aretha Franklin, Lady Gaga... Why are you looking at me like that, John? As if your taste is something to gloat about.”_ ), and dumb questions like juice preference ( _“Why do you even what to know that? Orange, I guess.”_ ). It wasn’t much, maybe not even important, but John really was enjoying learning more about Karl.

Deciding to play it safe, John rushed into the house alone. His dad wasn’t there, as some people were dedicated to work, so he texted quickly through Serious Business in hopes to get permission soon. It was the best route to go short of calling, as his dad almost always had his PDA with him. Figuring his dad would at least be okay with him going over for a while, he set to work grabbing the left over snacks from the other day out of the kitchen. They’d have to pick up more supplies if this was going to be a real movie night. While he was in his room packing up a change of clothes, pajamas, and a dozen movies into his backpack, his phone buzzed.

_SO LONG AS MR. AND MRS. BLYTHE APPROVE, OF COURSE YOU MAY STAY THE NIGHT, SON. DON’T STAY UP TOO LATE; I’M SURE KARL HAS HAD A LONG DAY AND YOU DO HAVE WORK TOMORROW._

John had always been a little put off that his dad had a tendency to write, text and type in all-caps, just like a certain guy waiting in his car that he knew. While Karl was trying to communicate rage most of the time, a defensive wall of grey letters, he didn’t see why his dad did it. It wasn’t like he was screaming how proud he was.

Figuring that he had grabbed all the things he needed, John headed back outside. Karl poked fun at him being a little out of breath, smiling ever so lightly when John said he didn’t want to keep him waiting. His heart did that flippy thing for the other half hour of the drive, even when they were loading up on junk food at a convenience store just a few minutes out from their suburban destination.

The biggest problem John was having being that he just kept looking at those lips and, while he knew it was totally inappropriate and not the time to even think about bringing up his newly discovered crush, he really did want to see what it was like to kiss them. It was thoughts like that could screw things up between them. His sudden dropping of the whole no-homo, bromance only mentality was hard enough on him when he gave himself enough time to think about it. How would Karl take it? He seemed fine with Soll, but he wasn’t going to be living with Soll. Soll wasn’t his best friend. Soll wasn’t watching his mouth with the thought that it would be nice to touch it, fueled by a smile or the nervous chewing of the lower lip.

“Do I even want to know what are you even looking at, much less why?” Karl asked, catching John gawking during a red light. He could only shrug and offer a laugh as an explanation. It had been only a few days of knowing each other face to face, a span in which a lot had happened, and while a lot would keep happening, John didn’t think it was the right time to say how he felt. He needed to go through it with Rose again or at least see if Jade would give him a pep talk. Really, he should check with Kaya or Teri to get their perspective on whether his potential confession would be a good or bad thing for Karl, since they seemed to be the closest to him apart from John. Most likely Kaya, as Teri had a tendency to laugh at him or make him do stuff because she sure made it seem like a good idea. The fact of the matter was that he wasn’t going to say something just because he felt pressured by the secret.

Anne greeted them, surprised that they made it back so early before offering to make them lunch. Karl told her no, that they had snacks and weren’t really hungry, and John nodded along even though he could do with something to eat. No need to fuss over them though! Somehow, they had sandwiches after bringing Karl’s boxes of things inside. They were given permission to invade the den for the rest of the day ( _“Or however long you kids plan on staying up!”_ ) and set to work.

After a quick trip to the kitchen for containers for a few of their many open bags and upstairs to grab the pillows off of Karl’s bed, they were ready. John flicked off the lights, drew the curtains, and pressed play on the DVD menu screen. Karl went from being seated stiffly against the arm of the couch to being wrapped up in John’s comforter—which John brought along with his non-lumpy pillow, because he thought ahead—with a bowl of cheese powdered popcorn hugged against his body in about as much time as it took the title card to appear. A Twizzler was already hanging out of the side of his mouth before the main character had even shown up. Karl took his movie watching very seriously.

“Oh, watch this part!” John exclaimed, nudging Karl in the side as he mouthed along to the dramatic monologue happening not half an hour in. He kind of expected a _‘What the fuck else was I doing this whole time?’_ or a quick smack in the arm or something, but all he gained in response was a soft grunting noise. John’s intended quick glance lingered a bit longer than intended.

Karl kind of looked ridiculous! The blanket was acting as a cowl, thrown half over his head as he managed to hold onto sides of material, his pillow, and the half full bowl of popcorn. His mouth was slightly agape as he stared intently at the screen, witnessing the sheer awesome action filled scene going on. As a gunshot suddenly went off and left the hero’s state underdetermined, Karl hissed out a breath, knees attempting to draw up to his chest only to be stopped by the pile of things in his lap. His feet stuck out from under the blanket, one rubbing the other as if they were cold or he was nervous. When they fell back down they swung idly for a moment before connecting with the ground. John tapped the closet foot with his, absently brushing down from the ankle to the pinkie toe then back up. He was half paying attention to the movie, not at all monitoring their feet attempting to play nice. Karl stiffened at his side, making a short noise in his throat.

“Why are your feet molesting my feet?” Oh wow, that’s totally what he had been doing. Since when did he do things like that? This maybe gigantic-crush on Karl was getting a little out of hand, considering he had it figured out less than a full day ago, and he mentally hit himself for once again doing the touching thing when Karl had made it clear that wasn’t okay.

“Woah, sorry. Ha ha, um, yeah.” That was a quality, not awkward at all apology; not! John promptly folder his legs under him, sitting on his feet because he obviously couldn’t trust them anymore. No one ever suspected feet of being mutinous but he in no way told them to try to make out with Karl’s feet, so those little buggers were on full lockdown until they learned their lesson. Footsie was really not the kind of thing one did with friends. Footsie was for couples or for people who didn’t need permission for that kind of thing. What even was going on in the movie anymore? John tried to figure out where they were in the movie and found the scene playing was way closer to the ending than he thought. Nearly fifteen minutes had passed while he was being totally creepy.

When he could finally get back into mouthing the lines, a soft sigh grabbed his attention. John watched as Karl’s face softened, eyes transfixed on the romantic moment between the two leads. Those light brows unknit, the almost permanent scowl lifted into a very gentle smile, and Karl just seemed to _glow_. That could have been the light from the TV though but John could shake the allure. As the couple on screen finally admitted their mutual feeling and embraced, Karl covered his mouth with a sharp intake of breath and, wow, yeah, he was crying for sure. And that was okay, because the Karl John knew from the internet totally always wept at tender moments, which he had found out after Karl had problems typing because the sheer  INTENSE EMOTIONAL BREAKTHROUGH OCCURRING IN THIS MASTERFUL EXAMPLE OF MOVING ART. There was something warm and wet running down his cheeks and it took him a second to realize he was crying too. He didn’t entirely believe it was just from the movie either, but when Karl glanced at him to judge his reaction, he was totally at peace with crying his ass off alongside him.

“That... wasn’t entirely appalling,” Karl commented when the credits had rolled. John was slightly ecstatic that his friend once again watched the text scroll up a black screen, silently reflecting on the movie. If only Karl had a passion for action adventure rather than his romance and romcoms, they could be movie soul mates. The thought alone nearly had his heart exploding.

A second movie followed the first, equally as amazing and full of the ever riveting Nick Cage. Somewhere near the start of the third, Anne brought in a pizza and a tossed salad, smiling when John apologized about losing track of the time and Karl just sat quietly, eyes downcast on the floor. She winked, laughing as she said something about them having fun, before leaving them to finish the movie with dinner. _She totally knew_. After the fifth, it was getting pretty late but who needed bedtime when there were things to watch and junk food to consume? Taking a seat on the floor in front of the bed, John went through his DVD collection, checking to see if there was anything else Karl needed to see immediately. They had kind of ignored half of what the night was intended to be about, but it was so hard to focus on getting into feelings when there was so much to see. Karl looked over his shoulder, making faces at each case regardless of how much of a timeless classic the title was.

“We need to get some real movies if we are to do this marathon properly. If I witness another buff fuckwit abuse slow-mo as he walks away from some kind of fiery carnage, I will staple my eyelids shut.”

“And what do you suggest, oh Movie God? Something starring Will Smith?” Not to entirely knock Will Smith. Will Smith was admittedly pretty alright sometimes, but Karl respected him in the same way John respected Nick Cage. Borderline obsessive respect was fair game to poke fun at.

“Will Smith is on an entire different level of professionalism than any of the so called stars of your gun stroking testosterone fests.” They were so watching both Men In Black movies, as there was copious Will Smith and guns. Karl hesitated then, brows drawing as rough words followed. It seemed things he didn’t want to talk about were grumbled or meekly whispered, without any in between. This was full on grumble time. “Do you want to hang out tomorrow, or are you sick of me by now?”

“For sure I want to hang out, Karl. I think I’m immune to whatever you think I’ll catch from being around you, because all I want to do is spend more time with you. I have work in the afternoon though. I could call in again.” Karl kind of kicked him in the back lightly and John flopped over on his side at the force of the blow. So much force. He earned a huff in response.

“Don’t you dare. There is no sense in us both upsetting our respective employers. I should cash in all those vacation days I’ve been hording for absolutely no reason instead of just not going in. Both those places owe me for the amount of shit I deal with on their behalf. Maybe I should go in and show off my exemplary injuries so they can see for themselves that I am not blowing things out of proportion.”

“You have two jobs?” John must have sounded as concerned as he felt, because Karl quickly jumped into an explanation.

“One’s mostly evenings and weekends which I pick up every summer that I wasn’t on the schedule for until tomorrow, while the other is a nine to five, five days a week, now that I’ve been promoted. Very recently promoted; you can see all my motivation to be there. So I’ve missed a few shifts already this week for that one, with no explanation other than the obvious hatred that establishment fills me with the moment I am exposed to the florescent lights and repetitive music track, interrupted only by chipper people delivering sale announcements. That or the repetitive drone of manager needed to such and such a place to be chewed out by a customer who really wants to return a toaster they bought two years ago.”

“Karl, you need to call them.” John checked his alarm clock to see if that could even be done; so much for his place being open but there could be some stores still open at half past ten.

“John, they won’t fire me. I practically run that shithole. They’ll just throw themselves at my feet, weeping at the loss of the greatest assistant manager even to grace the linoleum floors of Ta—fuck.” Karl immediately ducked his head and turned to the side, careful to look at anything but John. Karl was really staring intently at the wall, which just made John even more curious as to what he was going to say.

“Ta? What’s Ta? Oh, are you embarrassed?” He scootched over on his knees to inspect the status of his buddy. Someone must have turned up the heat because Karl’s face was bright red, right up to the tips of his ears. “You sure blush a lot, Karl.” There was a cacophony of a defeated sigh combined with an irrigated grown which sort of came out as this spluttering mess of a sound. Totally embarrassed. So adorable.

“Don’t even say a goddamn word after I tell you because you’ll just be a dumbass about it. Brace yourself, John, because I am going to reveal onto you the answer of where I am employed. You are hereby sworn to secrecy and if I ever find you have mentioned this to anyone, we will be friends off, shortly followed by your swift disemboweling courtesy yours truly. This information dies with you. You do not fucking run off to gossip with Strider, you do not inform Lalonde for whatever reason you might have, and you don’t utter so much as a whisper to Harley because you find it funny. No one. Now that that’s clear, I work at the enormous discount retailer second only to scourge of the earth known as Wal-Mart. In other words, I work at Target. Fuck you, don’t start with me. I need the money and at least I’m an assistant manager—or a fucking Executive Team Leader of Softlines because they have to be stuck up douches about coming up with their own titles of all things—who could very well take over the whole place if it wasn’t miserably upsetting to consider the extent of my working life to be a little slice of retail misery.” Jeeze, that had been a whole lot of words just to get out one little name. Karl had really outdone himself that time.

“Heh, Target’s all red and white.” It was fitting in a way that the corporate colours really did go well with his appearance. He kind of needed to see Karl rocking his polo shirt and nametag while attempting to smile at customers as they tried on shoes.

“Yes, John, I’m like their fucking mascot. Being me is so funny, it’s a never ending riot of shits and giggles. I’m sure if customers weren’t too busy bitching at me about stuff not being on sale when they think it should be because it was on sale four weeks ago, or stuff breaking when they smack it on the ground like the Neanderthal mouth breathers they are, it would be how colour co-ordinated I am. They just have a massive erection for silently laughing their heads off over something I have no control over so why should you be an exception? Go ahead, laugh away. I hope you get your rocks off on the story of my life.”

“Woah, I wasn’t trying to make fun of you, Karl. If other people problem with your appearance, that’s their problem. Because there isn’t any problem. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with the way you look. You know what I think.” Oh no. _Oh no_. This conversation was going to happen again. _Again_. How many times was he going to call Karl hot this time? Now that he had a good idea as to what was going on in his head, talking about how he found Karl attractive was twice as awkward.

“And what might that be? You’re all about frivolous attempts at boosting self esteem by throwing around ‘good looking’ like there’s no tomorrow but when it matters you still think it’s goddamn hilarious that I have red eyes and white hair and am pale as fuck. So how about you go engage in sloppy, uncomfortable intercourse with yourself as some of us mere mortals can only hope to not be excommunicated from civilization for their inability to be attractive. Not everyone can be you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Karl gawked at him in this muddled raging confusion before throwing his arms in the air in frustration. John wanted to follow suit. How was he even supposed to know what Karl was getting at here? Regardless of how much they typed at each other, John couldn’t read the guy’s mind.

“So you can dish it out but when it comes to serving yourself you can’t possibly take a fucking nibble? Are you honestly kidding me with this humble pie bullshit right now while we’re talking about this for the millionth time? You—and it pains me in the worst possible way to admit this because it means I’m having to judge your appearance which just makes this so awkward I can hardly stand it and fuck this noise, seriously—are charming.”

“Charming.” He had once been called a _‘charming young man’_ by Nana but that was really the extent he had on the receiving end of the word. Well actually, he had told Rose about a rather stunning, albeit messy, prank he had pulled one time and she had responded with the single word, but he was pretty much ninety-five percent sure she was being sarcastic. John sort of wished she would differentiate her normal typing with when she was being snarky—like the subtle caps-locking he did—but then she’d just be another person talking in all caps. _Zing!_ John kind of knew his thought were avoiding the topic with being downright inappropriately hilarious, but seriously, who even described someone like that with a straight face and with such deadpanned sincerity? With how obvious Karl made it sound, John was kind of thinking he might be a little bit charming.

“That’s the word I used, yes. And dashingly handsome if I must continue this tooth pulling exercise of complementing you on your freakish attractiveness, which shouldn’t be possible with someone who has teeth that enormous or glasses that thick. So once again, go fellate yourself before you make any more teenage girls swoon themselves into a stupor from being within a two block radius of your being.” Karl’s face was probably as red as John’s felt. The whole thing had sounded like an insult, harsh tone full of bite and distaste, but when he just focused on the words between the snippiness... Jeeze, he didn’t think another guy saying nice things about the way he looked could be so embarrassing. He guessed that’s what happened when he liked the guy doing the complimenting. “Please make this stop being so awkward.” Apparently Karl had mastered the discipline before him because he was totally reading his mind.

“Um just. Karl, I think...”

“No. We’re not talking about this anymore and you are definitely not allowed to think about this while I’m here. End of discussion. I am making an executive decision as the most mentally capable person in this room to terminate this trail of dialogue before I start comparing your eyes to equally as impossible shades of blue.” What? John blinked, both of them just kind of staring at each other. He swallowed a lump in his throat, because that totally sounded like something crazy romantic. “Fuck. Okay. We’re watching the ridiculous Con Air movie that you’re so enamoured with. I am this desperate to numb my brain whilst simultaneously pushing this conversation out of your head.”

“Karl, um, what does that mean? Not about Con Air but before that, about my eyes and stuff.” John’s hopes were rising as he went over it again. There was a chance there, in those words. There was the possibility and it was making it hard to decide between grinning like a moron and gaping like a bigger moron. John settled on just continuing to watch as the light of the screen played off the angles of Karl’s face in the dark.

“Oh my god, no. No. Just no. Not now. We’re not doing this right now. Just, can you give me some time to figure out how to say what I need to say properly so we both don’t end up hating me for it? I don’t want to sound like a fucking idiot about this of all my things, even though I’m doing a bang up job tip-toeing around the subject like a disgustingly drunk sneaking home after a night of bar hopping. Clearly exemplary.” And it was so easy to make that out to what John hoped to hear.

“I have something I need to talk to you about too, but I think we should do some more of the getting to know each other first... So we’re both really sure, you know, about what we’re not talking about right now, if they’re the same thing. I, uh, would like them to be the same thing.” He let himself think for a moment what it could be like for them if they did feel the same way about each other. John wondered what it would be like to date Karl, finding it would probably be the same as what it was now: movies, eating junk food, playing games, blushing, and being themselves around someone who would accept it all. They could be best friends, who just happened to kiss. The prospect was making him lightheaded with warm, fuzzy feeling, but reality pulled him back.

“I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. Put on the movie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so late with this update. Oh jeeze. Oh man. Okay, play it cool. I have excuses and future excuses. House stuff has been consuming my life and next weekend I’m moving, so the chapters will appear at wonky times for a little. After this move though, I don’t have much of an excuse to not update weekly... To be honest though, most of the time I had the chapter written, I just didn’t want to edit. I hate editing. So much. I also hate this chapter. Also so much.
> 
> What’s happening in the next chapter? That’s a real question. I don’t even know. My notes for this pretty much have run out, except for some steamy scenes that don't seem to be happening. I’m shooting for a certain bit in chapter twelve for John, but chapter eleven is sitting like a void between any kind of plot I might have decided to put into this. They wake up and... Be awkward some more. Chapter twelve might not happen where I want it to happen. Chapter twelve might be more of a chapter sixteen thing. Bluh.


	11. In Which Karl Vantas Walks a Lonely Road

It was shocking how John Egbert had not yet received a medal for his exemplary display in the sport of making evenings awkward. Not that Karl wasn’t in the running for the gold himself; after all, he was quite sure he earned the highest spot on that three-tiered rostrum, if not for all his efforts before then for how badly he had dealt with complimenting John. That charming, bucktoothed, blue eyed ball of insensibility would have to settle for the silver, less he make a play to steal first place through another exemplary display of clumsy handholding. Their scores were quite close though, and the title of most inept teenager of the century could go to either. John’s recent decision to make no sense—something about him hoping his thing was the same as Karl’s thing but they shouldn’t talk about the things—transitioned naturally to uncomfortable silence. It was hardly bearable to just stare up at the screen as they sat suffocatingly close together, the only means of separation being the barrier of a blanket. 

John kept fidgeting and, when he wasn’t acting like a junky in between fixes, he was stealing glances at the side of Karl’s face like he wanted the world to know how shitty he would be at any profession requiring stealth. He wanted to talk, get the feelings leaking until they rushed in uncontrolled torrents again, but he didn’t want to start it. Karl sighed in annoyance, dreading digging around the messy pile of spoiled innocence and dreams that was his past, but the more he put it off the more he delayed stabilizing any kind of friendship with John. They had sort of established that John didn’t need to walk on eggshells and that things could be played somewhat by ear as various triggers came up. It was a start however John desired a foundation that Karl didn’t entirely feel ready to pour out. But he had gotten through how his mom had died with just a bit of an emotional breakdown, so how bad could the rest of it go? Karl tried to get a grip on himself, to calm the rising panic in his stomach that threatened to hurl out his deepest secrets until he was heaving nothing but the entirely not platonic want of his best friend. 

They were half way through Con Air and John couldn’t have been investing even half of his attention in the movie he claimed to love so much. It was time. It hadn’t been long enough to plan out the conversation, though trying to find proper words wouldn’t have ever helped him in the heat of the moment regardless. It was better to just get it out as quickly and as unedited as possible and apologize for it in the end. Regret it all later, hate himself after the fact, just get through so there was nothing more to hide. It was hard to start the conversation that would ruin everything they had. The silence stretched paper thin between them until Karl tore through with the only means he knew: with too much force and little filtering.

“You said you wanted to get to know each other before we talk about what the fuck your problem is, so let’s get this started. I’m getting pretty sick of you walking around me, deciding to just match my pace, which would pretty much be at a standstill forever if not for how irritating you’re being about caring. Do you want me to start where I left off, after my mom was scraped off the pavement?” John winced, offering a sad smile that just sincerely apologized for the event he had absolutely no control over. Even though Karl tried to insinuate that he didn’t care anymore by throwing out a graphic comment, he could feel the familiar stinging of eyes. It was a sign for the inevitability that at least one of them would be getting emotional shortly. His eyes flicked quickly around the room, homing in on a box of tissues which he hoped was relatively full.

“Karl, we don’t have to talk about it. We can do this whenever and just take it slow. We don’t have to rush into it,” John insisted, voice low and soothing and too perfect as he completely disregarded two thirds of what Karl had just said. If John’s voice were suddenly a sentient being, Karl would punch it in the face for consuming his life just that little bit more.

“We’re doing this.” Karl glared through the potential onslaught of tears that were raring to get going, refusing the suggestion to just give in and continue watching terrible movies uncomfortably for the rest of the night. John opened his mouth but Karl quickly barrelled on. “Don’t even think of finishing that with Strider’s ancient meme, because I’m being completely serious and I am not allowing you to lighten the mood with attempted humor. You want to get to know me better. I want to stop pretending everything is rainbows and sunshine when it’s not. Then we can both stop with this cagy load of bullshit—with the secrets, not just your hideous movies.”

“How come you get to make puns? That totally lightened the mood, Karl. But if this is what you really want to do, then okay. Should we move to somewhere Anne or Gilbert won’t just walk in?” John made a valid point. Though the two foster parents did know the major reasons for Karl’s incessant teenage angst, it didn’t mean he wanted to share it all to them in his own words.

“The mood will be thoroughly doubled over when I give it a swift kick in between the legs in about two minutes. Until then, let it have its false sense of security and believe that this will be anything but an excruciating example of sharing.” He stood up from the couch, busing himself with collecting up far too many pillows and blankets. With his good arm holding on to the pile, he managed to snatch up the necessary box of tissues with his left hand with only minor discomfort. John stopped the movie, taking care of packing away his DVDs and stacking most of the once full bowls of snacks. Soon they were heading up the stairs to Karl’s room and Karl had half the mind to stumble backwards down the flight to avoid the impending conversation. He was pushing himself past his own comfort zone, which honestly didn’t have a very wide radius. John’s insistence that it wasn’t a big deal was making it more of a big deal. It was a big deal to Karl, as it really had become the centre of negativity, internal and external, in his life. He needed to say it despite how every part of him seemed to scream its resistance.

Someone had set up a futon on the floor of Karl’s room, but they both disregarded it when they entered the room. Once the door was closed they both sat on the edge of the bed, not facing each other but still seated slightly too close. John stayed quiet, holding onto a pillow loosely, still shifting constantly while sporting a nervous blush on his cheeks. He seemed downright calm compared to Karl, who had decided to cocoon himself in his own blanket to mask how much he was trembling. He didn’t think it helped a goddamn bit, and if anything the added layer made it even more apparent. John reached out a hand towards his knee but Karl shook his head when his eyes flickered up for permission. If he was going to be coddled and told everything would be fine, he would just break down ahead of schedule. Instead, Karl tore into exactly what he didn’t want to talk about.

“My dad and I moved to a smaller place after the accident. Dad tried to hold it together—or as together as someone can possibly hope to be when their spouse is ripped out of the seat beside them—and for a while he did. It couldn’t have been more than a year after the accident when he started getting weird in an overly protective, everything is going to hurt my baby so I should roll him in bubble wrap, kind of way. Not literally, of course, because he wasn’t fucking crazy, just scared of what could happen. He never blamed me for the accident like I did; he blamed himself for not stopping in time. He wanted to make sure nothing would happen to me that could take me away from him too. We cut ties with the family on both sides and moved halfway across the country so we could start over. I think dad was terrified over the fact that I was still pretty young, less traumatized from the accident and number than anything else, except for when I had the nightmares. He was noticing that I was different, aside from just how I looked.” Karl let out a shaky sigh, memories resurfacing all too readily from the cobwebbed corners of his mind where he had packed them. “I stayed in school for a few years until he pulled me out of it and taught me at home by himself. It wasn’t bad, and I didn’t miss going there since kids are really fucking ruthless to other kids who are different.”

Karl could feel John wanting to ask what he meant when he said _different_ but he didn’t. He sat there, listening, looking at the floor or the wall but not at Karl. A perfect pillar of support if he would only stop moving. John’s curiosity would be satisfied tonight, no matter how hard it was to drag the few little words out. It was a big reason to why Karl had always hid in the back of the class despite his less than superb eyesight and why he set up so many defenses against anyone who so much as glanced his way. It was the reason he was assaulted in and out of school and why he had heart palpitations when just so much as looking at the deep blue messages from a friend. One point at a time though, and the more he spoke the looser his tongue would be when it came time to say it.

“Despite hating school and just not being comfortable around people in general, I started to resent him for keeping me inside. He took a night job so he could spend the day with me, even though he was exhausted all the time. He bought me books and movies and stupid toys I saw on TV that I had to have, even when he couldn’t really afford all of it. He tried so hard and I was a selfish brat. I would scream and yell and try to fight with him, but he never did anything back because he was trying so hard to be a _good father_. I was sent to my room, given time outs, that sort of thing. I don’t get why it’s always just a nice, normal day when people die.” Karl didn’t intend for it to be as theatrical as he had made it out to be. It was more of an observation on how reality just went on without people, and perfectly beautiful afternoons could be someone’s last moments. Movies always played to the atmosphere of the scene, telling the viewer exactly how to feel. It had been a nice day, something perfect to play out behind a good mood; Karl remembered it clearly.

“We use to live in this old two story house, pretty far from any real town much less a major city. It was hardly what I would consider roomy by most standards but we didn’t really need much space between the two of us. It was a Saturday and he had had the night off of work but was still tired from Friday’s shift. I was nine and in one of my god awful little moods for absolutely no reason other than having a bad dream the night before. That was enough to leave me with my panties in a twist before the real problem of insomnia popped up. I literally cannot remember what the fuck I wanted, but it was something and he wasn’t going to give it to me. He told me to go to my room, and on any other day he would have just gone to his study and dread over having had just done that. Instead, he went downstairs to get me the thing. He was just going to get it for me, while I was in my room throwing shit around that I would eventually have to clean up when he was gone while my first social worker urged that someone else could do it for me.” The sound of the rotten floorboard giving way echoed in Karl’s ears as he took an unsteady breath.

“Karl, you don’t have to do this,” John murmured insistently and, for the first time since Karl had released the deluge of his past only a few minutes prior, their eyes met. Blue shimmered with anguish and concern through the building blur Karl tried to fight back. “I really don’t want you to force yourself to get through this just because we have some gaps here and there about what we know about each other. It’s only been a couple of days.”

“It’s been years, John, or have you forgotten that we’ve known each other since we were just entering the glorious era of our adolescence? Let me not be a miserable coward for once in my pathetic little existence and explain to you why exactly I’m fucked in the head.” John’s response came when a hand fell onto the bed between them, palm up and fingers splayed against the white sheets. It was an offered request which Karl could choose to fulfill. He allowed himself a moment to worry his lip and consider the path he had insisted on taking. Innocent support in the form of coupled hands would be so far out the window it wouldn’t even know what a window was in only a few too many words. “The first floor ceiling collapsed and he happened to be in the room below when it did. I can’t describe it in any other way than it just happened so fast. One moment he was pointing a finger sternly at my door, the next he was crushed under popcorn ceilings and a bathtub. A neighbour heard the sound—it would be rather fucking difficult to ignore something like that just a fence away—and found me digging through the rubble maybe a couple minutes later and called an ambulance. I never did see my dad when they presumably pulled him out and zipped what was left of him into a black bag. It’s just like he disappeared and sometimes on bad days I could fool myself into believing my parents weren’t actually dead. Obviously they’re dead.”

“I’m so sorry, Karl.” The words cracked and broke down into sobs. Karl squeezed the warm hand held in his, letting the tears cascade down his face. John wouldn’t judge him for this, at least.

“It happened a long time ago.” That wasn’t to say it had left him unscarred. The mental wounds of losing both his parents still bled when Karl was alone and vulnerable, unable to heal as he couldn’t find it in himself to let it go. Often it was his unconscious that played devil’s advocate, creating phantom images of the twisted forms he never had seen in reality. He didn’t want to forget them though, and would occasionally spend hours, when he had nothing better to do than to sleep, trying to remember his mother’s face. It grew harder everyday to recall such soft features, so hazy she would be unrecognizable to anyone else. “Do you miss yours?”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you to talk about it.” John’s voice was gentle and careful but it was without the thick spread of condescension he was use to receiving with his pity. While it wasn’t something he wanted his friend to feel for him, at least there only honesty in his behavior. “I never knew my birth parents. Dad adopted me when I was really young so I don’t have any memories of being with them. I don’t even know what happened to them, if they just gave me up or if it was something else.” Karl wanted to grip even tighter onto that hand and tell John just what kind of idiots anyone would have to be to purposely give him up, but couldn’t trust himself to not go on to list the all reasons. Instead he let their shoulders brush together, trying to convey an attempt at being comforting. John knocked against Karl’s in response, a small smile his reward. “But I have dad and he’s great. You’ll get to see that too soon, when we live together.”

“He seems to have come from the same foreign factory as you, where quality control isn’t so much a concern as is filling quotas on mass production, and things can just be shipped off with a few loose screws. In a good way, I guess, since it means both of you are willing to deal with me.” If John would even speak to him after the night was over of course. “Okay, continuing on, I’m going to give you a brief overview of my time in foster care.

“To summarize it in as few words as possible, it was like how people theorize getting thrown into a black hole would feel like, if one could even survive that. By that I mean that it was a seemingly endless plane where I felt stretched to my limit, pulled towards a single point with no control and completely at the mercy of something I couldn’t understand as I hurtled towards the preverbal event horizon of foster care’s swirling mass. You’re thrown around from one family to the next in hopes that some people actually want you in their lives. Even the social workers changed pretty frequently, every one saying they wanted to help but not actually helping beyond what’s in their job description. It felt like I was a demo, and they could just send me back if they didn’t like me. So I decided to make it clear that I didn’t fucking like them either. I spent a good deal of time in these group homes, which just had a bunch of kids with problems, in between places. I was angry and numb and miserable to begin with, and I was nine years old.

“Family number one should have charged Child Services more money for the stand up military camp they were trying to get off the ground. Family two was a brief affair that lasted all of two days, because they weren’t fully prepared on how bad I could possibly be. Family number three seemed to hoard the biggest assholes that had the gall to call themselves children, yet I still managed to be the worst one. By then I picked all the fights, even when there wasn’t any chance of me winning, because I wanted to have someone else’s shit fucked up for a change. I knew they’d come to get me eventually anyways, so I got the ball rolling ahead of schedule. I’d come home at ungodly hours just to scream at my foster families like I expected them to wave a wand in front of my face and fix my shithole life. I even smoked for a year—which was a goddamn filthy thing do and I’m still pissed at my past self for doing it¬—because I was teenage rebellion incarnate. I can’t believe one family put up with that for three months. I’m on family number fifteen, by the way, as I get around the system. 

“Because of that I moved around quite a bit and frequently switched schools. I was more or less rejected outright every time, not just because of that new kid smell I had. I don’t think I need to tell you that I’m not entirely unfamiliar with being beaten for my marvellous personality or for no reason at all except for someone decided they don’t like my face. School was where I spent some real quality time with the sweaty knuckles of some jocks trying to punch the different out of me.” That would lead into the real issue so well and Karl had all the intention of continuing his monologue until he was sufficiently without any secrets left to hide behind. He had reached the moment of truth. John broke down beside him while he tried to survive the possible scenarios the one-sided conversation could take them. 

“Oh god, Karl.” His face was buried in his free hand, glasses discarded and folded precariously on his lap. “All the stuff you went through is terrible and I don’t even know how I’m supposed to react when you don’t want me to touch you and I just want to wrap you in a hug until it stops hurting. Tell me how I can help you and I’ll do it. Please let me help.” His stomach twisted with guilt as John begged to support him, signaling he should cease and desist before he made things worse. It would be so easy to give up now, to give into the foreign comfort John desperately wanted to give, but he couldn’t. He should have said everything when it was easier, when it was online and it would have only been blue text rejecting who Karl was.

“Stop, please stop,” Karl begged, biting back the onslaught of his own tears that were eager to respond to John’s. He was doing a very poor job keeping any kind of guard remaining for the final push as he shook amongst his wall of covers. “I need to tell you this and if you’re crying and I’m crying I’m just going to keep putting it off until it gets more and more painful to bring up. I said what makes me ‘different’ isn’t just how I look. There’s definitely the hair and eyes that put people off, but the main reason for how people would treat me is because— _Fuck_. Don’t hate me for this; please don’t hate me for this.” He was cracking. He couldn’t do it. He should just say it was too hard and that they’d save the conversation for an imaginary day in the far off future. John would let him get away with it and he could just go on pining over the fuckass while the guilt burned its way through his stomach. It would be so simple to stop talking for anyone who wasn’t Karl.

“Karl, I’m not going to ever hate you. Ever. Please, _please_ stop thinking I could hate you.” Trust John to be an encouraging asshole about this.

“I’m.” He turned away so he couldn’t even see the other peripherally, so he was talking to the two white pillows at the head of his bed instead of the space around his feet. He squeezed his eyes shut, biting back the thoughts pounding at his head that this would be too much even for John to deal with. Worse though, John could think he was kidding around and he might not have the strength to do anything but pretend it was all a joke. “I’m gay and have pretty much been this radiantly masculine ever since I could walk, though it took me a dozen years to figure out that I was never and would never be really attracted to the fairer sex.” Nothing. There was _nothing_. No response, no sound, no motion: John was still, hand loosely fitted against his, breath so quiet Karl couldn’t tell if he was even breathing. He could turn his head and take in the reaction, take in the disgust for himself so he could discover that life really did go on even when it felt like his world had just ended. Instead, Karl kept talking. 

“Don’t tell me you didn’t hear that and I have to repeat it. It’s not something I tell people—who the fuck even really needs to know about who I’m interested in or actually cares one way or another—there’s maybe a handful that I’ve voluntarily submitted that information to, which includes a social worker and my dad a long time ago. But I needed to tell you because it’s a lot of what makes me what I am. This isn’t the time to exploit me for the sake of your prankster gambit, which I still can’t believe is ever a thing still because you’re not thirteen anymore and why haven’t you made me stop talking?” He turned for the spite, the hurt he was use to, but couldn’t find it in the curious, wide eyes or the pink cheeks or the lips loosely parted to accommodate large teeth. Not a scowl or disgusted glare in sight.

“Wow. You’re a homosexual? You don’t even lisp though. I mean, you like romcoms and are secretly a big sap in the best way, but, I didn’t get that at _all_. You don’t even dress well.” It wasn’t quite the reaction Karl had imagined, though he wasn’t sure why exactly he hadn’t considered John being _John_. Goddamn it. There was no mental math going on in his head, calculating how Karl had reacted in the last few days to all things John and the whole being gay thing. There had been so much going on that had been suspect without the new addition of orientation. It should be like adding two and two. Why had he even though John could do simple math?

“How the hell am I supposed to even react to that? Way to stereotype? Do you think every gay guy is a rainbow flag toting, glittery hot pants wearing, ‘bitch pleathe’ saying, douche bag? Also, my clothes are fucking fine. What’s wrong with hoodies and jeans?” Karl sighed, trying not to notice how their hands were _still_ touching. He decided to help his friend _get a clue_. “Do you want me to move if this makes you uncomfortable? Or leave? I know how guys get when they are in the vicinity of someone like me, even when every fucking one of them is not even their type, like what, they think anyone with a dick qualifies to their romantic interests? Some people in the world still have some class and a sense of romance, which often does not compute as apparently I and all of my homosexual kind just want to do the intercourse at all times. Get over yourselves, football team, I would rather get knocked up and have all the babies, which is impossible, than get anywhere near your combined IQ of a hundred.”

“No, I’m just surprised!” Nothing. There was no hint of him even holding anything back so he didn’t hurt Karl’s feelings. John just wore his emotions on his sleeve and, less he had somehow become a believable actor in the last few minutes, he was just okay with it. “Dude, it’s fine! It’s totally fine. You’re the same person I’ve known forever, this isn’t going to change that you’re my friend.” Fucking seriously. For the sheer amount of ‘no homo’s this boy allowed to escape between displays of affection or during slews of compliments, this new knowledge really was not fazing him in the slightest negative. Karl had been on the verge of re-experiencing their dinner and John, because he was John, still didn’t fully get the insinuation. He might even be smiling a little. “Is this why you’re so down on yourself?”

“No, yes, it’s complicated. That’s part of it, well, a big part of it, but I know I can’t change who I’m attracted to just like you can’t change the fact you’re a huge moron. It is engrained in our very souls, our destinies: for me, getting over myself so I might one day settle down to be a doting housewife for a man I’m pretty sure doesn’t exist because no one is going to put up with my bullshit long enough to actually be interested in me, let alone run off into the sunset maybe holding hands if I feel comfortable to do that for that long; for you, forever being a fucking idiot.”

“Karl, can I ask you a question?” When they looked at each other again, with puffy eyes and tear stained faced, Karl couldn’t begin to imagine what would come out of John Egbert’s mouth when he nodded his permission. “What, um, _is_ your type?” Karl froze, unable to do anything save for taking in the curious expression John wore while he waited to be answered. Their hands were still clasped with fingers wrapped loosely around each other’s, they were sitting too close than they had any right to be, and earlier in the evening Karl had gone on in length about John being attractive. He found himself caught between sobbing and screaming, and both were tempting directions at this point.

“I–John. How can you even ask me that at this point?” He wasn’t as loud as he wanted to be and not nearly as angry. Defeated would best describe it, the harshness he was use to fading as the emotions drained, until there was nothing left except for being so _tired_ of this. Somewhere inside him he had found some tears in reserve for this moment. “I’m really sorry, you wouldn’t even be able to begin to comprehend just how miserably apologetic I’m feeling towards answering this honestly. I wouldn’t be telling you if I didn’t think I’d fly off the handle shortly due to my awful attempts at hiding this. If it’s any consolation—I know it isn’t but if I say it at least it cements it into reality and one day you can remember and maybe come to forgive me for it—I tried to stop for years. I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to tell you but in my mind we weren’t supposed to meet face to face because this kind of bullshit would happen if we did. How am I supposed to stop when you’re right here in front of me and you won’t push me away like you should?” 

Karl didn’t wait for the reply. He didn’t want to listen to how John was flattered—so flattered, pal, buddy, friend!—that Karl had feelings for him. He didn’t want to hear the rejection looming in the air, waiting for the tension to cut down the monumental crush that had been in the works for years. He didn’t want that wonderful laugh to try and lighten the mood as their friendship caved in around them. So he got up as quickly as he could while detaching himself from the one person he truly wanted to be with and left the room. When he thought he heard footsteps following him, Karl ducked quickly into the nearest bathroom. The door closed just as he caught sight of the confuse desperation pulling painfully at John’s face. Gentle knocking only made Karl retreat as far into the room as possible, covering his red ears as the sound insisted he respond. 

“Karl, please talk to me.” He just had ruined this. “You, uh, me? You like me?” 

He ruined _everything._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, shout out to my BRO DisConsulate, who is just fantastic. Just. Fantastic. Thank you for going over plot with me.
> 
> I’m not even going to apologize for being a bad person again, because everyone knows by now I cannot be trusted to keep to schedule. Can someone come up here and make life stop happening on the weekends? The weekends are for writing, not for moving and unpacking and getting sick and doing house stuff. You are being totally unfair, life. Also, I have discovered that proofing a lot of boring text at work takes away much motivation for writing in the evening. How even did I become the office editor anyways? “I do some creative writing sometimes” does not spell “give me all the proofing yes please”. I am quite sure everyone at work has a higher level of education than I do.
> 
> In other news, I deleted chapter twelve. I had it fully written (because I was oh so excited about it, I wrote it around chapter five), copied it to put in a different file, thought I put it in that file, and did not click copy to clipboard. It’s gone. It was going to be a double chapter post today. It was going to be glorious and I was going to win you all back. Weeeeeeeeee!


	12. In Which John Egbert Discovers the Best Thing Ever

The quiet knocking roused Gilbert when it escalated to something slightly more desperately insistent. Though he more than likely decided to check on what exactly the teenagers were up to when John began less than quietly pleading with an unresponsive Karl to come out of the bathroom. Karl had run away for fear of what John would think, maybe even do considering how others had treated him in the past, and John hadn’t been quick enough to catch him. He was trapped on the wrong side of a slab of wood while muffled sobs were free to carry through undisturbed to constrict around his heart. It sucked because nothing John said seemed to get him any closer to that door unlocking.

He wasn’t sure what to say, what Karl wanted to hear from him, so he kept on insisting that he wasn’t angry. Those feelings were not only okay with him but also reciprocated, and John wanted to tell him but couldn’t bring himself to make the confession to the door. Karl deserved more than a desperate declaration of crushing while he just wanted to hide himself away from John. Honest feelings might be confused with a frantic attempt to reach out.

While he was pretty close to being physically sick with anxiety, at the same time he was kind of guiltily excited about the prospect of things eventually working out. Inside John felt so much the opposite of upset about this that he didn’t give himself much time to consider what the mutual like-like could mean for the two of them, other than it might make Karl happy as well. The feelings blending inside of him were so muddled that when Gilbert found him, he was crying like a baby all over again. John couldn’t begin to imagine how Karl was feeling—he guessed hating himself, over something he didn’t give John time to respond to, because he thought it was just that bad. It just made him collapse against the adult into a mess of sobs as soon as he made his way over, all the while still pleading with Karl that he had something to say. Gilbert advised him to go back to the bedroom so Karl could have the space he needed, trying to assure John with a smile while his eyes danced with worry. When a quiet and all too miserable insistence of _“For fuck sake, I’m not going to kill myself. Do you two really think I’m that damaged? Give me a second to breath.”_ finally sounded, John took the advice. Hysterics weren’t going to help anyone.

Walking slowly back to Karl’s bedroom and settling himself down on the borrowed futon, John made work of trying to calm down. After a number of balled up tissues were added to the trash can and he was no longer shaking, John waited for Karl to come back. As minutes stretched into an hour and that hour into two, the fight to remain awake, despite the necessity of it and the motivation to do so, became futile. Just as a downtrodden John drew a blanket over himself, found a comfortable position and closed his eyes, he heard the click of the light switch flicking off. Purposefully quiet shuffling moved across the room towards him and John didn’t know what to do. Did he try to catch Karl in the conversation he wanted to avoid continuing or give him until the morning to cope with having unloaded so much in one go? John didn’t want to trap Karl just so he could tell him how he felt, but he didn’t want him to continue hating himself over it for as long as it took them to talk about it. However he started, it would make his friend uncomfortable, which wasn’t something he wanted to add into the equation after the huge step Karl had taken in trusting him.

The shaky rise and fall was so close to his ear that it nearly drowned out the pounding of his heart. When had Karl sunk down next to him? The eternity in which warmth tickled against his cheek called for something, anything, to come from it. John was sure he had stopped breathing, waiting for Karl to choose whether he would draw away or claim the few inches separating them. He had half the mind to make up the difference himself, and that was kind of surprising. There was an unquestionable certainty inside of him that he wanted this, despite it happening with another guy. Not that Karl was just another guy; he was the internet troll who lurked on movie forms and defended romcoms like they were the only thing he could truly believe in; he was the bro-captain of their two groups, budding leading at his side to lead their friends to victory on countless dungeon raids online; he was the boy who abused the way he had with words, until everything spun out of his control and left him nothing more than red in the face; he was the blushing teenager who bit his lip and didn’t think he was stunning.

Karl Vantas was the most beautiful noun John had ever witnessed, in real life or otherwise. Liv Taylor had been knocked off her impossibly high pedestal in his heart, and nearly seventy percent of the things he liked about her were actually based off of fictional characters she portrayed. Caring about Karl didn’t frighten him and even being probably bisexual—or heterosexual with the exception being this one fantastic guy—was pretty okay. If it was with Karl, everything would be okay.

Every trail of thought ceased abruptly when a light pressure ghosted over his lips.

If not for the heat being applied to his mouth, John might have mistook it for nothing more than a breath fanning over his skin: delicately coy, hesitantly gentle, and so full of emotions that John could readily get used to. It took everything John had not to reach out and pull Karl in closer, to brush against the seam on those tightly sealed lips and eagerly discover what they tasted of. That would definitely cause the kiss to be cut short, which was the opposite of a thing John wanted. He would immediately be expected to explain himself—not that he wasn’t going to have some explaining to do regardless—and he was sure Karl would be devastatingly embarrassed about kissing a supposedly sleeping, defenceless friend. Not that that wasn’t going to happen either.

“Fuck.” In an instant the warmth was gone, the air filling with a deafening whisper still shaking with tears, after a single blissful moment. As the weight shifted up and footsteps padded away, John reached a hand to his face, tracing fingers over his lips in an attempt to mimic the light touch of Karl’s lips. It was the best kiss he ever had. It was a Hollywood, blockbuster kiss, the kind that would win awards for being the most heartfelt, tender moment of all time. Except for it was real, and it had been absolutely perfect for them except for the fact that John was pretending to be asleep. Oh god, _oh man_. The things Karl was doing to his heart had to be dangerous to his health and he never wanted any of them to stop.

“Karl.” The name came out in a croak, John finding it extremely hard just to breathe properly. A startled gasp immediately following as Karl froze on his bed. John reached out blindly for the nightstand where the bedside lamp was. That table seemed to have moved from where he thought it had been, fingers catching handfuls of air. He didn’t want to confess everything Karl was making him feel in the dark. Even though it might be downright embarrassing, he wanted his friend to see his honesty when he poured his own heart out.

“Oh fuck. God, you’re awake. It’s not what it... Could you possibly do me and the world an enormous favour and put me out of my misery before I’m allowed to even finish that thought, because who am I even trying to kid at this point? I’ve told you how I felt and, judging by that weak little attempt to say my name, you know what I just did. It’s exactly what it is. Even you could put those scenarios together and see what they spell out. I'm the self-entitled kid who, despite mother's insistence that it will spoil my appetite for supper, is still caught with my pudgy little hand firmly planted in the cookie jar. There's no way to just blame this one on the dog; you’re Chips Ahoy, John.” That was an adorable thing to say. He finally located the lamp at long last and twisted the knob on, illuminating their corner of the room. Karl flinched in the light, scrubbing at his face with his good arm as John walked the short distance on his knees. Sitting up, he was about level with Karl’s chest, a head tilt and bob forward away from his face; his heart fluttered wildly in his chest at the thought, like a million butterflies had just replaced his insides. Hesitantly, he rested his hands on Karl’s knees.

“Dude, kiss me again. If that’s okay with you, I mean.” Watery red eyes stared down at him, wide with confusion and too much fear. John smiled to try and ease the panic away from his friend’s expression, flipping one hand so it waited palm up. After his face was thoroughly inspected for any kind of prankster’s wiles, damp, cold fingers slipped into his, seeking the answers his eyes were also begging for. Karl was visibly trying to focus on glaring, to pull his lips into a scowl, but with all the overexerted emotions they were going through it came out as a deep pout.

“Excuse me? I couldn’t understand you what with everything that you just expelled out of your mouth hole being grossly non-heterosexual for someone who had always claimed to be nothing but. Explain what exactly you just said and don’t you dare pretend that any of this is a joke.” The butterflies were being carried away, a certainty that this was everything he wanted overtaking them. John had half the mind to cross that small expanse and get properly acquainted with those downcast lips after their brief introduction. It really had been an awesome first impression, but John reminded himself that he hadn’t actually said anything about why kissing would be fantastic. All of this confusion really did merit an explanation.

“’Dude’ isn’t homo, come on.” John held onto Karl’s shaking hand as if he was entrusted with something so delicately beautiful that it could break with the slightest pressure, the other resting overtop the letters he scrawled on otherwise white cast. His feelings swelled in his chest, warming everything inside of him with pleasant, buzzing electricity that made him smile like an idiot. The sensation was even greater than when he had been in the third grade and just so _in love_ with a girl that he just couldn’t stop drawing hearts or pictures of the two of them together. He wasn’t nervous, rather he was eager to share with his best friend the answer he was searching for in his eyes. He felt so sure about this when there had always just been some slight nervous hesitation with his previous two and a half sort-of relationships. This felt really right. “I wouldn’t joke about this because I would be stupid to deny you, and me, of being happy. That sounded kind of selfish, but I think it’s okay to be a bit selfish when it comes to feelings. So, to make this clear, when I said for you to kiss me again, I mean I would like it if we could do that, as more than friends, because I like you. Gosh, Karl, I really like you.”

With mouth agape in disbelief and cheeks a wild shade of bright red, nonsensical stuttering was the only sound Karl could make. “When did you...?” Was the first string of coherent words in a good minute and a half of trying to construct a sentence. It was a good question, one that John really had to ask himself. When had he started to like Karl? Had he really only met his best friend for real that Wednesday, taking up only a few days in his life thus far? Had it really only been a day since the movie not-a-date date and the talk with Rose that had made him question himself? It was such a short amount of time to come to terms with everything, but from what the rushed timeline lacked in length it made up for in the profound sense that it was where their relationship should go, at least for John. It wasn’t as though Karl was a stranger to him; four years was plenty of time to get to know someone. Just his appearance and emotional background and secret crush were new to him. That was a lot of things, actually, but lacking all of that information didn’t make this Karl a whole other person. There was plenty he had always liked about him.

“I think that I might have always been into you—duh though, you’re my best friend, of course I like you—but it took meeting you in real life to figure out that I could be, you know, romantically interested in another guy. Like, I couldn’t consider that that was all that was stopping me before, and it turned out to be not so important. I’m sorry that I’m not very good with words, and I can’t give you the beautifully crafted confession of beyond platonic feelings that you really should have. So I’ll tell you what I want, and I’ll be a little selfish about it.” Karl was staring down while John smiled up. Fingers clung almost painfully to his, digging in with all the pressure his lips had lacked. “I want to watch movies together until ungodly hours of the morning, and play videogames with all of our friends while being obnoxiously bossy with you, and share smiles with you over inside jokes that no one gets but us. I want to smuggle you into university so I don’t have to be without you, and wrap up together in a pile of blankets, and tell you how utterly gorgeous I think you are until you believe it too. I want to light so many candles that it becomes a fire hazard, and play you mash-ups of the most romantic love songs on the piano, and buy you flowers that I’ll specially pick out with Jade to have significant meanings of how I care about you. Right now, I can’t do all that, but I want to. I want to do that forever. So at least for now—while I can’t game, or feeling jam, or try to act out romcoms with you—I can mean what I’m saying to you. I like you, Karl.”

Karl was fighting with his face to keep his small, lopsided grin from overtaking his ornery, perplexed embarrassment. His breath caught in a strangled sob and John was momentarily worried that he had broken his friend. When Karl looked back up, John discovered that he had lost his fight with looking happy: brows lifted from deep set arches, thick white lashes lowered to half-mast over striking eyes; his cheeks had darkened past his usual blush to being an absolutely adorable cherry red, fresh tears following set paths against the skin; lips curved up with the left side higher than the right before stretching over pretty white teeth as Karl let out a bubbling laugh. He was entirely stunning.

“The fact that you even wanted any of that is enough. Just you even considering being with someone like me is more than I could ask for, John.” Karl bent carefully forward, resting his forehead against John’s with a soft sigh. That was definitely something John could get used to. “I never thought much of the scenario where you would accept me when I told you how I felt, since it was so fucking unlikely. Teri always said it was pessimism but really, I was just trying to be realistic. Everyone knew your preferred gender, and the fact that we only knew each other online made it so much more improbable for you to consider... this.” Karl was speaking slowly in a quiet whisper as he kept alternating between meeting John’s gaze and shyly looking to off to the side. His forehead was getting pretty hot and sweaty at this point, and John wouldn’t move for anything in the world. “Generally any imagined scenarios in which you didn’t tell me flat-out to get my repulsive face out of your sight, after tossing a good dozen well deserved punches my way, were the best cases to me. Not that I ever thought you could really do that when I remembered you are someone who feels bad killing virtual, fictitious animals for collection quests—seriously, they’re not actually alive, John, I don’t care if you think they’re cute—but logical thought tends to be beyond me when I get in the writing your name all over my notebooks encased within asymmetrical hearts kind of moods. This isn’t making any sense to me because, despite you saying all those wonderfully, disgusting romantic things, you were saying them for me. If you don’t mean it or you’re just trying to be a nice guy because you can’t reject people, could you please take it back now? I’m offering you a free pass here. No hard feelings.”

“You wrote my name in hearts? That’s really too cute, man.” John brushed his nose against Karl’s, thoroughly nuzzling the heck out of him. It prompting a content sigh before he was sort of head butted to stop. It didn’t really hurt, but he pulled away until they were just barely touching. He drew the hand he had around Karl’s cast up, satisfying the urge to run his fingers through the soft locks of hair ticking his face. Rather than flinching or sitting further back, Karl leaned in to the touch as John tucked long bangs behind an ear. He sat up, stretching to his limit to place his lips against the expanse of skin just above one raised brow. “Gosh, you’re cute.”

“You just ignored everything but that one thing, which I totally am not. John, I’m being fucking serious here,” Karl huffed, still trying to push down his grin while he groomed his tone into something sterner. It was totally unnecessary. There was no need to keep an abrasive guard up when they were both in mutual crush for each other, but John had a feeling Karl wasn’t going to let it go readily.

“And so am I. I like you, and I’ll say it as many times as you need to believe it. I will enunciate and stress every syllable of those three little words if that helps: _I. Like. You._ I’m not making myself feel a certain way, because that would be totally unfair to you. I want to make you happy but most of all, I want you _to be_ happy.” Karl dropped his head to John’s shoulder, burrowing his face in the crook of his neck. The level of intimacy they were up to was well beyond what he had been comfortable with in the first week of his last relationships. Was it totally rude to look back on it now and think that those girls hadn’t meant nearly a quarter of what Karl had always meant to him? That if he had even been made to choose, it would have always been Karl? Probably pretty rude to those ladies, yeah, so he’d keep it to himself. “I won’t go breaking your heart.” He hummed a few verses of the song, just content in combing his fingers through dishevelled hair while his friend didn’t pull away.

“John...” Had John not been literally right in front of his face, he wouldn’t have heard the strained murmur of his name. The word reverberated against his neck and made him shiver with how unexpectedly nice that it had felt. Karl was totally allowed to stay right there forever. They would somehow have to work out how exactly Karl was going to eat like that, but they would cross that bridge when they came to it. As if reading his thoughts and deciding that it would be much too awesome to cuddle for the rest of eternity, Karl pulled away. Those timid eyes were mostly shrouded by lashes, but the little that John could see was focused on his lips. Oh. _Ooh._ Alright, that was also a good thing to be doing!

“If it’s okay, I’m going to kiss you, right now.” John shifted up and to the side to sit next to Karl, only now noticing how the other was perching on the very edge of his bed. The lips he intended to smooch in T-minus ten were being thoroughly chewed in nervous habit, and he hoped Karl wasn’t going to open the wound again. John noted to tread cautiously because, even though Karl was healing, he wasn’t healed. Physically there were the ribs and the arm to consider, and those related to the fear his friend had of being touched. John needed to remember not to initiate too much going into this, to make sure Karl felt like he was in a controlled, safe place with him. He needed to be gentle and non-threatening and demonstrate how he wasn’t going to mess this thing up. It was hard to keep telling himself to hold back, to not succumb to surprisingly pent up adolescent hormone levels, when he really wanted to push their faces together again. “Probably a lot. Just tell me if it’s too much and we can stop. Uh, wow, not that I was planning to do something weird, since this will be our first really real kiss. Not that I’d do something weird in any other circumstance.”

“Stop fucking talking and kiss me. You are doing a bang up job in hunting down slaughtering every last shred of romance out of the mood you created. I have half the mind to reject your pitiful advances.” John frown and Karl just scrunched up his face momentarily before continuing. “No I don’t. Shut up. You know how much I want this to happen to the point that it should be depressing. I think we’re both sufficiently nervous, and while you may lack experience, I don’t even know the meaning of the word. I don’t need to be wrecking the chance of finally doing this during your frightful lack of good judgement by talking.”

“Wait, wait just a second. You’ve never kissed someone before?” John prolonged their ‘sloppy make-out’ session—Karl was fond of throwing that term around, even though it sounded a little gross—because he found this development kind of shocking, despite knowing what Karl had gone through up until know. Sure he was prickly, but John couldn’t imagine people not being interested, even if that interest only went as far as looks. Though really, that didn’t mean Karl was interested in them. He was a romantic at heart and having to change homes pretty frequently would make courting someone difficult. John imagined just chasing after another guy would be difficult in and of itself, because the likelihood of that guy being openly interested in men wasn’t too high. They could even just react to the genuine feelings negatively... And that was exactly what Karl had had to think about, liking John. It was really brave of him to let his feeling out, even when he had convinced himself that he would be rejected for it.

“Forgive me for pining after you for four years and three months. Did the span of my insufferable crush somehow slip your mind?” That was news to him! Had Karl really liked him for that long? He felt like an idiot for not catching on to any hints that may have been dropped during their friendship, though more than likely Karl had tried to keep everything to himself. Thinking about the times this wonderful, misunderstood guy spent beating himself up over feeling a certain way and then in turn being bullied by those in his life for it, was just cementing the urge in John to never let Karl go.

“You just said years while you were freaking out pre-locking yourself in the bathroom, I didn’t know it was the whole time you knew me.” John cupping the warm exposed cheek. His hand was smacked half-heartedly away when it began to trace along the soft jaw line. He had been about to pull it that little bit closer, but apparently kissing was still being delayed in favour of this conversation. “I am actually so flattered right now.”

“Get over yourself, it wasn’t the whole time. I hated you, with this deep, immense loathing that consumed me night and day with a fiery passion. I wanted to code these malicious viruses that would sit on your computer and turn your words into repulsive slurs and insults until all your friends left you, but Captor wouldn’t aid me in my vendetta because he thought it was dumb. I wanted to reach through my computer screen and throttle your thirteen year old neck so you’d stop typing about inferior movies being extraordinary and only then could I die happy. I was committed that if I were to go to jail, it would be for somehow fucking up your life. That lasted for all of two days. Then I liked you.”

Karl drew into him without another word with a kiss just as hesitantly shy their first. Everything else in the world could just go home because this was unquestionably the most awesome thing. John pushed back gently, eager to discover and explore soft lips that, while they froze briefly at John’s response, didn’t pull away. He absently wondered if Karl put on flavourless lip chap because, seriously, apart from the split they were unbelievably smooth against his. Smooth and really not knowing what to do. When they stilled again as John adjusted, he realized Karl was expecting him to take the lead. But really, of course he was. Apart from studying various forms of kissy media, Karl didn’t have any knowledge when it came to normal make-outs, let alone ones of the more sloppy varieties. Not that they needed rush things and get ahead of themselves; they had plenty of time to get a game of tonsil hockey going when they were good and ready. John decided he needed to stop letting himself think when he should have been focusing on kissing the person of his dreams.

He pulled away, prompting a dissatisfied whine which, from the look of minor horror on Karl’s face, wasn’t supposed to escape his mouth. With a few overly excited bounces, John manoeuvred so he sat cross-legged on the bed, gesturing for Karl to do the same. He was more careful with his movements, twisting slowly with a hint of a wince that made John question continuing even their chaste kisses. Karl caught his look of concern, flipping him off casually; well, at least Karl wasn’t going to suddenly act like a different person! Once their positions were mirrored, John shifted forward until their knees touched. That was way more comfortable than nearly falling off the bed.

With a thought, John tugged off his glasses, then safely folded the plastic off to one side instead of crushed in between their faces. A peck fell over his lips quickly, enthusiastic to continue where they left off yet still too light. John followed Karl up as he moved to pull away, one hand gently pushing down where it contently tangled in white hair while the other angled the pale face slightly. They weren’t quite fitting together as John had imagined but that wasn’t something a little adjusting couldn’t take care of. He let his lips trail in light brushes to the corner of Karl’s mouth as he tilted his head more to one side. With a skip of his hand to Karl’s chin, he suggested a new alignment with a tug of his fingers, which Karl quickly agreed to. When their lips met fully again, with John’s slightly parted and Karl’s just relaxing that far, there was a satisfying pressure behind the kiss. What made it about two hundred percent more successful than before was Karl sighing his name in this dreamy, airy voice that was the new best thing ever. There was probably going to be a lot of ‘best thing ever’s going into this relationship.

“John, fuck, John I’m a mess. I love you, I’ve loved you so long and I just...” Karl spoke quickly against John’s lips in a breathy whisper, muttering the declaration between kisses. Usually the L-word was something newly established couples shied from, even feared, as it was a commitment to a deep feeling that meant something. But to John, if felt kind of right for them. Karl had loved him for some of the four years that they had known each other, in some capacity maybe for that whole time. It made him feel warm and just unbelievably happy to receive those words. As John was beginning the descent into these new emotions, Karl would be there to catch him at the bottom.

“And I’ll say those words to you soon, I’m sure of it,” John replied. “But before I really get caught up kissing you any more, I need to ask you something.” Pulling away might have been a bad idea, because seeing those dark red lips just made John want to continue on to kissing the heck out of this guy. What they had been doing was like a slow-dance—perfectly great and romantic and what they both needed at this point—and what his hormones wanted was for him to get his groove on, despite his brain insisting that the music of the night was love ballads and only love ballads. Hormones need a time out. He just had to stop staring at Karl’s lips and just focus on his full face. Karl expectantly waited, except he looked awfully worried. “Come on, don’t look scared!” To assure him that his question was nothing bad, and only slightly to get the growing urge off of his back, John met those lips tenderly for a good ten seconds. “I just wanted to ask if you would be my boyfriend, Karl.”

“And I am being completely serious when I ask this: are you brain-dead?” Karl snapped, at about ten percent his usual bite. “I mean it, because how can you possibly ask me that after we’ve been attached at face for the last few minutes? Do you honestly think I would throw away my first kiss on a whim because some blue eyed Adonis confused me for being pretty? How can you think I’d want anything but to date you after all of this dramatic bullshit we’ve been wading through these past few days? Yes. Hell fucking yes I want to be your boyfriend.”

It was official: John Egbert and Karl Vantas were a thing. While John would eventually like to tell the world of the news—starting with Rose, since she helped, and probably ending with Eric—it was outweighed with the more immediate prospect of kissing his boyfriend some more to seal the deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks go out to Missy for editing my mess. You are lovely, darling!
> 
> So kissing happened. It only took 65000 words for them to get here. Let’s hope the next one doesn’t take that long to get to. Does that mean the story continues, without real notes to guide it? Apparently that’s what is happening here. Drama Llama Queen keeps on chugging along. But wow, I am having this serious problem and it is called Skyrim. Guys, this is a legitimate problem am I having. Free time? More like killing dragons time. Should I have been writing all weekend to get my chapter finished? Most likely. What did I do instead? Dark Brotherhood quests. Another thing that will not help is the fact I have come into possession (after handing over hundreds of my dollars) of a new wacom tablet and a desk. Just need a chair and I can produce digital art again. Help.


	13. In Which Karl Vantas is the Little Spoon

Admittedly, Karl wasn’t exactly a natural born Casanova when it came to the art of kissing or the plethitude of touching that came along with it. He tried to place blame on his injuries for adding discomfort to what would otherwise be a dreamlike situation—though he had never even gotten much past a phantom John’s lips in even his raciest imaginings—but he knew it went a lot deeper than just a broken arm and bruised ribs. As they began their lips strained to find a pace that would match one another’s and their hands fumbling for a place to rest contently. He couldn’t help but feel terribly for John for having someone as absolute shit at this as him, atop a lengthy list of other problems, as a partner. More than likely John would feel no chemistry when he detached himself, finding not enough potential to try and force himself to be not being entirely heterosexual. Words were easy to draft and sketch out, outline an idea that could possibly work, compared to the actually construction of a relationship. He wouldn’t blame John for finding that the execution could not match all those sweet things he had said.

Could Karl handle going back to being just friends after something like this? He would have to, just as he had dealt with the rest of his less than thrilling life: hide the insecurities away behind a mask of contempt and just grudgingly accept whatever it was the world had decided he had done wrong.

Then John tilted his head and Karl couldn’t bring himself to give any fucks about trying to pity himself. Everything suddenly switched from being a front-runner in the competition for single most awkward kiss in the history of humanity to being _so fucking good_. Karl couldn’t even properly describe how everything just fit together once John had taken the initiative to guide him. The questioning uncertainty that came with asking for permission faded as instinct kicked in and Karl partially wished John had stopped respecting that rule from the beginning. Their proximity, space somehow still shrinking between them as they pulled into each other, had yet to freak Karl out. His brain had decidedly gone with the option of flat out ignoring his history of abuse in favour of answering the tongue running along his bottom lip.

Karl had always thought that the act of sucking face looked absolutely revolting. It had become commonplace to witness such public displays of self-satisfying, ego-stroking affection throughout school. He had, on more than one occasion, prompted a rather serious ass-whooping by offering his opinion on the matter. They were a couple, congratulations were in order because it was always quite an accomplishment for the lower rungs of the IQ echeladder to bump into one another and decide that was the very definition of love. Had that sounded sarcastic? Why, Karl hardly knew the meaning of the word, not that he expected any of them to understand the subtle nuances of mordancy any more than their classmates. Back to the subject at hand, perhaps they might go copulate where Karl’s sensitive, semi-virgin eyes might not see his first real life erection, sans his own, in the pants of a guy two concussions away from not knowing his own name. Sometimes he wondered if he wasn’t some kind of masochist for asking for it.

The fact of the matter was that seeing teenagers snogging in the hallways of educational facilities was about as inescapable as staring at a ten car pileup unfolding before his eyes, and Karl witnessed it with the same horrified awe. Even in cinema, where kisses were staged just right to look like a gorgeous expression of love, the act never inspired him to get out and experience it with someone who wasn’t his long term online crush. That being the case, experiencing sloppy make-outs first hand, with John Egbert— _his boyfriend_ —no less, was fucking incredible. No one had warned him just how amazing something as messy as shoving two mouths together and introducing tongues felt. Granted, Karl should have figured as much, as there had to be some incentive behind looking as though one was literally eating their partner's face. His discovery for the day: seeing people walk the border of cannibalism was disgusting but engaging in it was just inexplicably awesome.

“Karl, I can practically hear you thinking,” John mumbled against the edge of his mouth in the general direction of his ear, before leaning back about an inch. His breath was slightly ragged, coming out in quick puffs through reddened lips. Karl was overwhelmed with the desire to touch, taste, and capture that mouth with his once again. When had an inch become such an unnecessarily significant gap between them?

“One of us has to.” Karl was slightly taken aback by his own voice, a low hoarse sound peppered with gasp of air when he expected his usual gruff tone. Of course he was out of breath. Of course he had forgotten that he needed to breathe whilst being too wrapped up in _John_ to give a shit about basic involuntary bodily functions. His brain had decided that the most necessary action to maintain his state of being alive, apart from assuring his heart kept hammering in his chest at an alarming rate, was kissing. Apparently he wasn’t the only one to notice the change, as John had taken to staring at him. Those big blue eyes, so stunning when undistorted by the thick glass of his glasses, watched him with such unguarded emotions. That alone would have been enough for him if not for the fact that they could still be exchanging saliva. “Are you seriously going to keep ogling me like you want to be attached to my face again when you’re completely capable of just leaning forward to do that? Newsflash to John Egbert, you have staked your claim and, though your determination to acquire it is questionable, have been awarded full ownership of my mouth to enjoy in any way you see fit. I have a suggestion for what you can do with it.” Karl leaned in half an inch, lowering his voice to make a sultry initiative to continue. “Kiss me.” He made a note to himself not to try and sound seductive.

“Okay. Sorry,” John didn’t sound remotely apologetic as he let a laugh escape, offering only two half-assed pecks before delaying what could only be considered the best possible course of action for both of them. “I’m just going to put this out there, since we should be honest with each other, what with honesty being the best policy: that was without a doubt the sexiest thing I have ever heard. Oh my god, Karl.” Fingers ruffled through his hair, drawing him in that other half an inch until they met before Karl could even scoff at being referred to as sexy in any way. He could feel the smile on John’s lips and saw it fixed there when they parted soon after.

“When I insulted you?” Karl almost wanted to clear his throat to try and rectify whatever had decided to fuck with his vocal cords. “I didn't realize you were into that kind of thing, though admittedly that explains a lot. Unfortunately for your specific kink, I’m not going to make a conscious effort to verbally abuse you more than I already do so you can get your jollies on.” In all honesty, if John really wanted him to do something seemingly weird he didn’t doubt that he would cave to the suggestion. That included, but was not limited to, lobbing a few creative insults his way. He didn’t want John to leave him because he wasn’t open to the normal levels of perversion the general populous had, not after they had just figured this out after four years of wanting on his part. Not that he should be getting so far ahead of himself. They had just shared their first kisses and he was dwelling on what John might possibly ask him to do when exploring further possibilities in the bedroom somewhere down the line. All the thought of non-normative sexual behavior was making him self-conscious and John’s silence wasn’t helping. “What? What are you looking at?”

“It’s just, just how you’re talking. Your voice is just so...” The description never came. Instead his body tried to explain: wet lips pressed into his, quickly working back to tugging and sucking in an intoxicating rhythm that made Karl choke on each breath. John coaxed little sounds of encouragement out of him that he never knew he could make, from the moans when he licked over his tongue to the begging whimpers when he pulled away. Hands untangled from his hair to run the length of his torso, content on their new resting place on either side of his hips. Karl could barely keep up. He was losing himself in John, in the warmth that spread throughout his entirety from when their bodies contacted. It was unequivocally dizzying and it left him at a severe loss for words. That apparently didn’t stop him from wheezing and whinging and making far too much noise for none of the sounds to be coherent when John pulled away again. “Alluring.” It took Karl a moment to realize John had finished his thought, eyes dark with something Karl never would have imagined he’d see.

“More.” Finally a word, needy and pleading to be fulfilled, but at least it was something. John obliged for only a moment, stopping just after fingers dipped under the hem of Karl’s shirt to skit over his skin. “Don’t,” the whine prompted little more than another short peck on his lips. He could feel tears well in his eyes in his sudden frustration that his insistence warranted no response. He was tired, suddenly aware of the time and just how emotionally imbalanced their evening had been, but he just didn’t want the moment to end. If the moment ended, John could take it back. “ _Please._ ”

“We should stop.” John murmured, tearing himself away in order to crush Karl’s hopes that this was going to last. There had to be something wrong in order to make him stop doing all the things he was doing. Was Karl not responding correctly? Were they doing a terrible job impersonating a pair making-out and were actually garbage at it? He had fucked it up. He always had to fuck things up. “Karl, seriously, look at me.” He glared, livid with himself for doing something wrong already, but the expression didn’t last. John’s smile was so genuine, so happy that he just couldn’t believe he had something to do with making him smile like that. “I’m not uncomfortable or having second thoughts or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking. This is so awesome it’s probably illegal, so we shouldn’t mention it to our lawfully minded friend. Teri might get us sent to jail for illicit smooching. My point is doing this with you feels kind of too amazing, if you catch my drift. Please catch this drift. I mean, I can kind of feel that you’re on the same drift, right now, so yeah.”

“Fuck, fuck I’m sorry.” Oh. Karl felt his cheeks blaze as he noticed just how poorly he had been monitoring his self-control. Not that he had paid much mind to that part of his anatomy in the past; it seemed shameful to consider it. That opinion, largely unchanged, may have to undergo some slight revision in the foreseeable future. Flushed against John Egbert and having just come out of a productive first make-out session, he was in a sorry state that only demanded that they continued.

“Hey, I’m in the same boat, dude, it’s okay.” John had the audacity to press his hips forward, backing his assuring words. Apparently the night had stolen all his shame away when Karl still had some in reserves. “It’s normal and quite honestly it’s, um, well it’s hot as hell. So, while a part of me would totally be pumped to just keep on going and naturally come to a stop, this is happening really fast and I don’t want to like, push you into something you're not ready for.” John paused, ducking his head as he cringed slightly at his choice of words. “We’re not ready for. Wow, seriously, we’re not ready for wherever we were just heading. We need to detour, or stop and take some pictures of the scenery, because there really is no rush. My liking you isn’t just about all this physical stuff and I feel like we should slow things down a bit.”

“So you would rather wait in line for your ticket into my pants than take advantage of a free all access pass courtesy hormones turning whatever I had that remotely resembled a brain into a pile of warm mush? John Egbert, your noble decision to resist taking advantage to ravish me senselessly, ruining me for future non-existent suitors, is so romantic I don’t even know what to say.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s what I’m doing.” John pulled into his shoulder, releasing a content sign against material that had almost felt like an unnecessary boundary between them moments ago. He was waiting for the searing heat to die down, for their hearts to slow and match. It was frightening how eager Karl was to let someone see him at what he felt would be his most vulnerable, free to shiver as skin met skin and—fuck. Karl was mortified as a profanity meant to cut off that tangent of his thoughts took on a dual meaning. They had just coupled, barely understood eachother’s feelings and had only gotten kissing sorted. He didn’t want a hook-up, an unsure spur of the moment decision that they could both come to regret in the morning. He wanted John to love him before he threw everything he had on the table but his body continued to insist that romance was dumb. John was right; they were in dire need of a time-out.

“Should I take it as a good sign that you’re not outwardly terrified by the concept of us eventually making love when we're both ready to? Yes, that's what I called it you smug jackass, fuck you in the non-sexual context very much. Though considering certain parts of our anatomy are in close proximity and both eagerly responsive—shocking due to my immense self-discipline; that was sarcasm, in case you didn’t hear me begging for god only knows what two minutes ago—I may have just answered my own question. For whatever reason you’re okay with this.” John kissed him quickly before sitting back so Karl could see him frown.

“Wow, have you not been listening to me at all? You’re the person I trust most to have my back, the person I can unload on and the person I can just really be me around. You’ve been my best friend for years and it seems like such a natural transition that I like you as something more than that. I’m not regretting this, and I’ll keep on assuring you of my feelings even when you stop second guessing them. I like you, Karl, and that’s not going to change. Making love with you—whether it happens years from now, in a few months or even in a week—isn’t something I’m dreading. Kind of the major opposite.” John leaned forward to delicately set their lips together, none of the urgency or heat from before behind it, but full of a terrifying amount of emotion. Karl was sure he was going to finally kick the bucket via not being able to hold all of the feelings he had for this one boy. “See? This day is the best day ever, despite all the stuff that went down before, because I’ve got you in the end. And that’s what's going to matter; at the end of the day, if I have you, it’s worth it.”

“Regardless of everything you just said, I can’t help thinking that you will decide I’m not who you want—be it a glaring physical flaw or that you finally come to realize or that I am really as big an asshole as I’ve been saying—and it’s ruining the afterglow.” John unexpectedly was holding his hand again, because it wasn’t like that was his favourite thing to do. What was actually unexpected was when he lifted it smoothly to his lips, kissing the back of it, before grinning like the idiot he was. Had Karl somehow managed to escape the making-out without blushing to his full capacity, his cheeks were burning brightly now.

“You really give yourself too little credit.” Karl tipped forward into John’s chest, wrapping his good arm around his middle as he pressed a cheek into the light t-shirt. At least the tempo of John’s heart was still as frantic as his own. They teetered to lay width wise on the bed, legs dangling off the edge in a tangle of limbs, still pressed close enough to feel the slowing pulses racing though each other’s bodies though now with a gap placed between the places where their extremities held. When their breaths slowed and their drumming hearts found a normal beat, John ruffled Karl’s hair affectionately. “How long must I resist before shouting our relationship status out on the rooftop for the world to hear?”

“In case you didn’t figure it out by now, the world isn’t so much an avid fan of individuals going against the biological norm and not wishing to live solely to be fruitful and multiply, by and large. So you may have to resist the urge to yell at suburbia of your intentions with me forever. Also, I’m not about to let you do something so asinine as scaling out the window and onto the roof because, knowing you as I do and knowing how the world likes to fuck with me, you’d immediately fall and break your neck. I will compromise as far as informing our ragtag circle of friends goes and suggest we wait until you’re completely sure you’re on board the homo-train.” John chuckled, kissing him between knitted brows as if coxing them to rise. They did, easily, a kiss enough to ease the tension he wore so readily. Karl could feel the unfamiliar smile pulling his lips, a coil of deep affection constricting around his heart in the best possible way.

The drama of the day, specifically the last few hours they spent together, caught up with both of them not at all unexpectedly. Without kissing as a distraction, it was very noticeable their night had long since slipped into the next day. Karl could feel himself fading out of consciousness as he used John’s chest as a pillow, hoping the pressure was not too uncomfortable for the other. There had been too many emotional breakdowns and emotional revelations to do much except sigh and fight to keep his lids open. Then he stopped fighting, cuddling close regardless of their awkward position and began to drift. The only move John made was to reach out for the pillows at the head of the bed and draw Karl’s discarded blanket around them. He didn’t miss the light kiss to his cheek or the words that followed it.

“I’m totally on board already if you’re there with me.”

 

Karl slept surprisingly well considering he must have rolled over on his left side at some point. His ribs and fractured arm weren’t thanking him for that, and he briefly wondered how the hell he could have thought that had been a comfortable position. Maybe it was a command from his unconscious, a nice big ‘fuck you’ sent along for being such a raving emotional mess when he was awake. His subconscious was an asshole, often ignoring the allure of sleep with disinterest for nights of tired eyes and caffeine or whipping up nightmares from his past just when he thought he was over it, so he wouldn’t put this past it. With a shuffle and slow twist to get on his back, to at least relieve the pressure on his arm, Karl became distinctly aware that John Egbert had been practically been spooning him. No, scratch that, there was no ‘practically’, no ifs, ands or buts about this. There had been full on pressed against each other, mimicking two kitchen utensils in their drawer. They were the spoons.

Now that he could no longer fill his enormous feeling reservoir with somewhat inappropriate touching brought on by John being an unfathomably clingy person even when unconscious, Karl was at a loss for what to do. They were still lying closer to each other than two people rightfully should but Karl was progressively becoming more uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by as John didn’t wake up as well. He felt trapped in the moment, unsure of what to do with himself and feeling the panic sink heavily in his stomach. He thought that with John, it might have been okay all the time, but it wasn’t. Laying there only made his head scream that he shouldn’t be that close, no one should be because it only ever hurt, even though he knew John would never do that to him.

If not for thinking of himself, he should really move before John woke up and incorporated around a half dozen ‘no homos’ into an awkward attempt to shrug off sleeping in the same bed. Karl just anticipated him taking back everything that had happened last night, chalking it up to a mixture of pity, experimentation and sleep deprivation, and Karl really didn’t want to hear it. Yes, they both fell asleep on the same mattress. No, that didn’t mean anything. Just like them kissing probably meant nothing. Just like his declaration probably meant nothing. While they were at it, Karl might as well save him the trouble and stamp on his own heart some more. It was fine because John would say he was just trying to give Karl what he wanted, and that was so nobly stupid it literally brought tears to his eyes. That wasn’t fucking fair either though, because John didn’t know how not to be a nice guy and John was just sorting things out in the only way he knew how: like a blundering idiot. Karl couldn’t blame him for deciding he wasn’t gay after all, so he’d just stick with blaming himself. It had always worked before.

“Ah, you’re up,” a slurred murmur pulled him away from his fear, plunging him into the reality of it. “We’re kind of, um, close. Right now.” Karl decided not to break it to John that they had been considerably closer when curled around each other only a minute prior.

“That is what happens when two people fall asleep in the same bed and one of those people latches hold on whatever he possible can in his sleep. It’s you, by the way. Having regrets about what happened?” As a partial answer to that question, John’s leg hooked around both of Karl’s, tugging them closer. The fear was ebbing quickly to the point where he was only somewhat uncomfortable with all the touching.

“Shut up, dude. Can I kiss you?” Heavy eyed and with a lethargic grin instinctively raising his lips, John waited patiently for permission. Like hell Karl was going to deny him the request. He turned over on his right side to face the wonderfully stupid creature that had decided he was worth the time of day. They lingered in the light pressure, a sluggish greeting that inspired an even slower departure. There was sweetness in that kiss which Karl was entirely unfamiliar with experiencing. It didn’t encourage a continuation into something deeper, but it still spoke volumes that these shared feelings were really happening. For the first time in a very long time, Karl’s day started off with him being inexplicably happy. “Mm, good morning.”

“We are brushing our teeth before we do that again.” Not that he had any intention of leaving the comforting warmth beside him. They took their time considering getting out of bed, clinging onto each other as if everything would end as soon as they left the safety of blankets. Well, Karl clung; John just held on and laughed softly into his hair over how cuddly he was being. Karl grumbled nonsense back, cranky and abrasive and smiling the entire time. John Egbert destroyed his whole world all over again with a few feathery kisses to his face, making a point to avoid his lips as he voyaged to chart the rest of his skin. His heart was pounding, his cheeks hurt from all the uncharacteristic grinning, and he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. They successfully wasted a good hour of the mid-morning lying beside each other and Karl would have gladly thrown the rest of the day away in favour of staying in John’s arms. Life, unfortunately, had other plans.

“Shoot, I have work in like, two hours,” John mumbled against his cheek, after quickly twisting to catch sight of the clock on the bedside table. He sighed before bobbing down for a quick kiss and Karl met him half way. Surely Karl couldn’t contain his heart for much longer, not with John being sweeter to him than he could have ever imagined. “Nope. I’ve decided not to go. I’d get totally sick.” Another kiss followed by a dreamy smile that was too much front teeth and dimples and perfection. “Lovesick. It could be life threatening. Best not leave.” Karl smacked John affectionately, which was really just a slightly toned down normal slap. John just laughed and tapped him back on the shoulder.

“That was so cheesy.” Not to mention it was entirely stupid in the most romantic sense possible. This bed would be his final resting place: Here Lies Karl Vantas, swooned to death due to corny sentiments.

“Dude, you love cheese. Come on.” John poked him, then again, and continued assaulting the general area of Karl’s torso until his finger was batted away. The hand retreated to wrap around Karl’s waist, thumb brushing small circles against his shirt. Without his glasses on, John kept squinting to keep Karl in focus, but wouldn’t let go in order to reach the few feet to the nightstand to retrieve them.

“Yeah, sure I do.” Any embarrassment was quickly hidden in the crook of John’s neck. He sighed against the skin, breathing in the scent of generic soap and John. He had promised himself not too long ago that he wouldn’t drag this boy down with him, wouldn’t admit to the deep-seated feelings he harboured. He was glad that he had a tendency to contradict himself. Past him was once again in the wrong; if he hadn’t gotten nauseatingly vulnerable to the point where he could have lost everything, he wouldn’t have won the one thing he had ever really wanted. Those bottled feelings had been filled to the brim, capped and vigorously shaken until he couldn’t hope to contain the words any longer. “John, not to sound like a broken record but it is just ridiculous how much I love you."

“You’re going to overexert my heart.” The murmur came in warm breaths against his ear and John gave his waist a good squeeze. Karl felt a certain sense of obligation to kiss the skin under his lips, brushing against the curved expanse just above his shirt’s collar.

“Should I stop saying it?” Karl honestly wondered if it was making things weird between them by admitting to it so early on. He could at least make an effort to keep his mouth from spitting sweet nothings for at least a day. Two at the most, depending on how often John wanted to waste time with him. It might scare John away if he knew how serious he was about him, despite how much the other insisted on the opposite. True to the unexpected acceptance of this new-found relationship, John just laughed.

“No way, man. It makes me really happy that you care about me. I just want to be able to say it back soon. When I say it I just want to mean it as much as you do, in the way you do.” _When_ , not if. There was no hesitation that he would and undoubtedly it all had to be some kind of wonderful dream. Karl was comatose in a hospital somewhere, playing out a fantasy staring himself and someone he knew from the internet while everyone working there wondered if they should mercifully pull his plug. John leaned back, nudging to top of Karl’s head with his chin until he looked up. “I like you so much, Karl.” It took everything he had not to kiss the hell out of him for that, but he knew that if he started he was not going to end it. Instead he leaned forward, trying to communicate all his feelings in one gentle exchange. It left them both grinning stupidly like any other pair of lovestruck teenagers.

“Come on, the day is deciding to be an insensitive douche by insisting on happening despite our best attempts to ignoring its existence, and I am seriously not allowing you to play hooky on your job in favour of laying in bed for the rest of forever. “ Karl took the first step, unwrapping John’s arms and legs from him in order to sit up. Just as he moved to stand he found himself trapped as arms circled his waist. “John Egbert, you are going to be mature so you can bring home the bacon. What ever will the neighbours think?”

“Imagining you in an apron again. This time it is pink. With ruffles.”

“Stop being so clingy, it’s suffocating… is what I’d tell you if I wasn’t so irrevocably enamoured with you and your stupid face. Rather than you dragging me back down onto the bed so we might resume getting our cuddle on while simultaneously hiding away from the rest of the world, allow me to be the responsible young adult and kick you out. Go home and then go to work.” John sighed before letting him go, promptly grabbing his glasses before bouncing up to standing. He grinned, offering Karl his hand. Being completely susceptible to such chivalrous gestures, Karl mistakenly took it. He was drawn up into a loose hug, one he could easily escape but never actually wanted to. “Fuck, I don’t want you to go.”

“Yeah. Can we hang out again after work? I could bring over some games and we could resume watching the movies we didn’t get to last night.” John stepped away, letting him go completely and Karl reached out instantly for his hand. God, he was so needy.

“That sounds like an utterly abysmal plan, but I really don’t have anything better to do than humour your lust of terrible cinema; it’s a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, what? Oh yeah. So. Long time no see? Anyways. Life and stuff. Blah blah new cat blah crazy diet of suck blah Skyrim meme reference here. You all know the drill. I wrote most of this at work, during lunches. Good times. Thanks go out to Missy again for giving it a once over, and also to my good friend Melon for deciding to read it as well. Melon, you don't even Homestuck what are you even doing? 
> 
> BIG NEWS. Anon-san gave me my first fanart ever. You know how awesome that feels? It's pretty darn awesome. It's like, flail worthy awesome happening. I'm going to giggle like an idiot again about it. Suffice to say I am beside myself with how happy it makes me. Also, as I said there would be some attempt at art on my part: http://tinyurl.com/6u7jyjw. Please don't judge me, internet people. I said I'd post something and that is pretty well the extent of art for me. Working on colouring but oh my god, I remembered how I hated colouring. I hate it so hard. Also, John, fuck your hair. Just. Seriously. I had to redraw that crap a dozen times and it still just looks awful.


	14. In Which John Egbert Worries About Everything

The start of John’s day set him up for failure. How was he supposed to operate while he could remember how warm it had been when Karl was in his arms, or the way it tickled when light breaths spoke whispers of adoration against his cheek, or how he had melted when those full lips that had tugged eagerly back at his? Despite all the urging to do otherwise, John had managed to coax Karl back into bed for half an hour, content to spend time holding on just a little longer, before he really was kicked out of the house. He realized that life was probably going to be like that for a while: thinking about someone constantly, wanting nothing more than to be with them, and wondering what he would have to do to coax out more sounds from between those pretty lips. And how long he could hold back thoughts like that last one.

The now indisputable physical attraction he had towards his best friend didn't mean it was okay to rush into foreign territory, metaphorical guns blazing. Karl was someone he treasured and someone who had, until very recently, been against any kind of spontaneous touching, and for good reason. Last night could have simply been a good day for him and he might not want to hold hands, much less kiss, later that evening. He had been hurt by people, physically and mentally, for the majority of his life and the abuse had left noticeable scars. John couldn’t expect that things would sail smoothly for them in their relationship together after knowing what Karl had faced alone for years. Added to that was the further complication of Karl being ashamed of his sexuality—at least from what John had gathered what with how he talked down about it—so maybe going further would just encourage his thoughts of being abnormal. Maybe he'd be disgusted by it.

As for John, he hadn’t given his newfound attraction to someone of the same sex as much thought as he probably should have. Admittedly, the sight of two men together had always made him feel slightly uncomfortable before and the phrase ‘no homo’ was one of his more frequent fallbacks. Gay was sometimes lobbed as in insult in his circle of offline friends and, while he never used it or insulated it or honestly really cared, he never stood up against it. So while he had some time to do the responsible thing to try and figure out just how okay he was with being a bisexual, of other thoughts came to mind. Thoughts that revisited the previous night and made him blush in embarrassment despite being alone in his car with only the radio to judge him.

They had briefly gotten on the subject of sex after simple kisses turned into full on making-out. Despite his healthy curiosity when it came to entertaining thoughts of a sexual nature, John had never considered his first instance of it happening with another guy. Or potentially so soon in his life. Or potentially so soon in a relationship from how far things had progressed. As old fashioned as it may have sounded, he had always thought that he would reserve himself for that special someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, someone he wanted to have kids with and grow old with. Not necessarily be married, but with someone he wanted to marry. The more he thought about it, the more he seriously could consider that someone might, maybe one day soon, be the angry internet troll he met when he was thirteen.

While pulling into the driveway of his house, John busied himself with wondering if they were too young to fully understand what love meant and what it would be like to conceivably be with another person for the estimated rest of their lives. They were almost old enough to be adults, but were going to be teenagers for a few years yet. In the eyes of many, parental figures included, they were still just kids. Karl’s first and only love was John, and Karl was the first person John had ever felt this deeply for. Could they be sure of what they wanted for their future together so early into their first real relationship? John thought he was, but he didn’t know if that feeling would change. Was there an age restriction to understand what love really was? Is there a certain level of maturity you must reach before your feelings will be taken seriously by anyone? Was e there a certain number of romantic situations that one needed to personally acquire, to compare and contrast, until they could determine the meaning of true love? Or was it something felt deep down in the heart, that would grow and change, and would shape who someone was by how much they wanted another person to be happy? It was hard to figure out if what he felt could be the romantic kind love for sure, but John knew Karl didn’t expect an answer anytime soon...which made him want to figure himself out as soon as possible.

Halfway through the front door, John realised he hadn’t asked Karl where he wanted this relationship to go. Though, with less than a day into being boyfriends, it seemed like not enough time to start talking about where they wanted to live when they were out of school, or if they both even wanted to live together. He didn’t even know if Karl wanted to go to school at all let alone what he really wanted to study. He knew it was too late to get in for the fall, but would he even want to enroll in John’s university for the winter semester? What if he wanted to take something the university didn’t offer and went somewhere across the country? What if they couldn’t see each other without buying a plane ticket or investing a good deal of time on the road? Would their relationship suffer if reverted back to long distance interaction or would that work for them? John knew he couldn’t wait to see Karl again in the evening to the point where he was actually considering skipping work; how was he going to cope with months without him? There were so many questions cluttering up his head that he almost didn’t hear the one spoken out loud.

“How did it go, son?” John froze in place, one foot falling heavily down on the first step of the staircase. That had sounded loud enough for the neighbours to hear and he really hoped it had just been exaggerated by his heart pounding in his ears. He heard his father enter the room rather than saw, his gaze set downwards as his cheeks debated between flaring or draining. Of course his dad was home on a Saturday, of course he was curious as to how the night was spent with the boy he wanted to foster went, of course John’s reaction to the question was suspicious and insinuated something had happened. John should have been prepared, worked on his words during the drive home instead of thinking about pulling a u-turn and getting back in someone else’s bed. “John, is there something wrong?”

John felt a thread of panic run through him, constricting around his lungs until he fought to breathe regularly. All the while his dad just waited for an answer and John didn’t know if he could give him one. What was going through his head was in no way helping: _‘Hey dad, there’s probably some rule against this but Karl and I are dating now and that’s probably weird because you’re trying to foster him. Even though I’ve never shown any signs about this, I’m gay enough and serious enough about him that you probably won’t see any biological grandchildren due to us both being men. Also I sort of am having a hard time not thinking about kissing him between planning out the rest of our lives together.’_ No. There were so many alarms blaring in his mind that he remained frozen, not saying a word.

John knew his dad wasn’t the type of person that would hurt him over something like a sexuality epiphany, but the thing was John didn’t know how his father would react beyond that. At all. On the one hand, he was usually very proud of what John decided to do with his life, from when he started making his own lunches to when he got into the post secondary school he wanted to attend. He had also been very proud when John had introduced him to his previous girlfriends. Of course, after that John received far too many talks about the birds and the bees and was urged not to rush into things. Would his dad be proud that he was with Karl, like he had been about those girls? Would he have the same talks as before about them being safe when there was no risk of pregnancy? His dad was a very conventional businessman, lived in a very conventional suburban community, and had very conventional acquaintances. There was the very real possibility that he could be disappointed, even if he said the opposite. Everything between them could change because John had found one boy from online and never wanted to let him go.

“I have to get ready for work.” His voice sounded distant and the complete opposite of reassuring. He still made no move to go up the stairs for how much as he wanted to escape to his room. Everything was numb to the point where he wasn’t sure if he was shaking or there was a little earthquake happening. Except it was totally him. His stomach was turning painfully and his vision was tunneling in on the second step and—was he going to have a panic attack? He really didn’t want to be having a panic attack in front of his dad and the knowledge that he was freaking out just made it worse.

“John, come on, have a seat.” He felt the arm around his shoulder, turning him and tugging him down to sitting. His dad just rubbed his back, holding him close as John caught his breath. When John was not visibly losing it anymore, as in he had stopped shaking, his dad pressed on. “Did something happen?”

“No!” Just from the way he had asked John could guess the real question: did Karl do something to you? He tried not to blame his father for thinking that, because he really didn’t know Karl like John did. Sure he’d mention his friend CG from time to time but never enough for someone to properly piece together who he was. Even John was still working that out. What his dad knew by now was that Karl had a history of getting into fights and, though he admitted to John as having started a number of them just to ruin someone else’s day for a change, he still had violent tendencies, at least verbally. The snippy words slide off John like water off the proverbial duck's back but he could see where the cussing and insults could put someone else off. And apparently Karl had to be sedated during his short stay at the hospital, so what his dad saw there could also be a factor of his concern. And John panicking didn’t exactly spell out good news. “Yes, something happened but it’s. Dad, it’s not something bad. I don’t think it’s bad. I think it’s something really great but it’s just hard to explain. I need some time to figure out what I want to say.”

“Son.” The hand patted his shoulder lightly, reassuringly, but John could still see the slight hurt behind those calm eyes. John had never kept something like this from his dad: he couldn’t wait to tell him when he started his last relationship and he was the first person John went to when they ended. He told his dad everything. He was someone John could always trust before. Things were complicated now and he hated how it was scaring him. It shouldn’t scare him. He should be happy! He had been happy not even an hour ago when he stole a kiss before being pushed outside. He had been happy when Karl’s cheeks flared and he whispered how in love he was. That was what should have really mattered but John was still _terrified_. “I’m here when you feel ready to talk to me about this.”

“Thanks.” After all that, how was he supposed to ask if he could go over to see his assumed platonic best friend later in the day? His dad knew there was something going on which involved Karl, and he would surely be hesitant to allow John to go back after coming home to break down. John rubbed his eyes and decided to just go with it. “Can I see Karl tonight after work? We sort of made plans and I need to tell him some stuff. I won’t stay the night; I know I have work tomorrow morning and he probably needs some time to himself at some point but...” The nod was slow, but it was still a yes. John hugged him, thankful that he understood despite not knowing the reason.

“Are you sure you’re up to working, John?” John laughed off the question instead of answering, because he honestly wasn’t sure of anything anymore. He unfixed his foot from the stair. _One step at a time_ , he told himself.

Work proved to be something of a challenge. John found himself dropping things more often than not, bumping into others and earning comments from his coworkers that he looked distressed. One even asked if his girlfriend had broken up with him, and it had almost been enough to ruin him. Their assumptions were wrong, and it was stupid how much he couldn’t handle one small change in what made him himself. Thankfully his half hour break crept up so he could sit in the lunchroom and wallow in his own problems. He could almost laugh at how eager he had been to inform everyone that he was dating Karl just a few hours earlier. Without his boyfriend beside him, he was scared of how people would view him. Karl had known he would be, even when John was spouting the opposite.

John fished his phone out of his locker along with a hastily packed meal consisting of a sandwich and an orange. He decided to try and distract himself by chatting with some of his chums, and there was usually at least one of them online. Sure enough, as soon as he had logged in there was the buzz of a contact pestering him.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 15:05! --  
TG: young man i am surprised at you  
TG: if i hadnt expected this my jaw would be agape in shock  
TG: dragging on the floor sweeping up piles of smuppets and shitty swords left and right  
TG: i would be able to start a cleaning business with how fucking spotless this floor would be  
TG: make an honest living and support my family and put some money into my kids college fund  
TG: because lets face the facts theyre not going to university on my salary let me tell you 

EB: what? dave, seriously what are you talking about? initially, as in what you’re surprised about, not your dumb metaphor.

John didn’t really know what Dave could be talking about. They hadn’t chatted for a little while, what with John being busy spending time with Karl and figuring out that they were both interested in each other. The last time they had talked had been Thursday night, when John had been at the movies, asking him for advice while Karl was buying candy... About dating and if what he was doing with Karl could be considered that. _Oh shit_. He suddenly didn’t want to see where his friend was going with this conversation. It was too soon. It was too soon and John hated how he wanted to keep it a secret from everyone now, at least for a little while. The only thing preventing him from blocking Dave was the fact that this all might possibly be entirely unrelated to Karl. Except for that was stupid and of course that’s what it was about. He considered turning off his phone and hiding under the table until he could breathe again, but he clung to the hope that this would all lead to nothing.

At least his apprehension didn’t communicate through text.

TG: bro caught me sobbing in the corner of my room and was like dude man up who even cries in corners thats not even a little ironic its just pretty pathetic  
TG: so i was like naw bro you dont understand the depths of these crushed feelings im trying to hold onto  
TG: so i told him what went down and he joined me in that corner  
TG: pooled our tears together and embraced and bonded over the pain  
TG: we are better brothers because of it  
TG: thats how much this hurts

EB: are you seriously angry or joking?

John really couldn’t tell with Dave sometimes so, while he waited for some kind of straightforward line in his reply, he decided to repack his food in his locker. His appetite had been thoroughly destroyed by thoughts that one of his best friends was actually angry over his relationship, that fear he had felt when talking to his dad settling back in. Dave knew at least something and, unlike John’s dad who waited for him to initiate the dialogue, was going to give his opinion on what he already knew. What if Dave ironically gave them his blessing, but actually found it all to be disgusting? What if he never talked normally to John again because of this? John didn’t know what would happen. He couldn’t tell what was genuine and what was just said to keep up appearances.

TG: you let me figure this out from teri who got it from kaya who found out from rose who apparently talked you into it  
TG: there was a chain of people who knew about this before me  
TG: what even is that  
TG: you have broken the cardinal rule of the bro code  
TG: you go straight to your room and think about what you didnt do  
TG: no fist bump for you tonight

EB: dave. too many words, none of them explaining anything.

Dave toed around the subject as John chewed his lip, waiting for the words to appear on the screen. That had been enough lead up for him to actually make his point and John was almost shaking. He was glad no one else seemed to have a break scheduled at the same time as his. He definitely would not be able to handle having this conversation with another person in the room, asking if he was okay as he stared down at his phone.

TG: you and vantas

Dave knew. And going by what he said, Teri knew and Kaya knew and Rose definitely knew, considering he had told her in the first place.

EB: rose is such a jerk. that is a breach of doctor-patient-confidentiality. what did she tell you?

TG: she didnt tell me anything where are your listening ears egbert  
TG: teri told me that kaya told her that you were having a therapy session with rose which might have had something to do with boys kissing around the same time you were losing your shit about what a date was  
TG: two plus two equals youre gay

EB: not really. i’m just with karl. dave, it’s not a big deal! i was going to tell people and i thought i was ready to tell people until i realized that they could think differently about me for something like this. not just people but my friend and my dad and everyone i know could hate me because i like karl as more than a friend just because we’re guys. please don’t hate me for this.

TG: dude seriously who do you think i am  
TG: you honestly think i give two shits about you and vantas finally tying the long overdue knot with your tongues  
TG: i dont even give one  
TG: not one shit about this to be given bro  
TG: there was a bet going for a while to see when he would finally tell you  
TG: but then it just got kind of sad then more sad so we stopped after crush year one  
TG: at the most well let out a collective sigh of relief now that all that tension is gone  
TG: could have cut that with one of these japanime swords egbert  
TG: what my panties are all up in knots about is that we didnt get to sit down here man to man and rap about what that sudden stirring in your pants means

EB: no. dave seriously now isn’t a good time for this. it is never a good time, actually. don’t.

TG: proud of you son lil johns makin it to sure wood  
TG: leadin the band of merry men against all likelihood  
TG: stealin up albino boys all for the greater good  
TG: giving out the lovin like some kind of robin hood  
TG: like damn bro you deserve an award  
TG: for even packin that microscopic meat sword  
TG: but least you can use it, wont make your boy bored  
TG: got him screaming nightly, make him reach a new chord  
TG: youre just a novice so no one is expectin much  
TG: pages like you arent born with the special touch  
TG: fencing willy nilly with the maid in your clutch  
TG: as such while i freestyle got your record on file  
TG: class is in kid striders teacher for a while  
TG: get prepped for ivy league with killer oxford style  
TG: get your rubber sharpen pencils thats the profile  
TG: so safety first dawg hope to god you paid attention  
TG: test tomorrow morning an there wont be an extension  
TG: so to pass remember before you make a connection  
TG: wear a johnny boy better cover your erection

“John, are you okay?” John snapped his phone closed, standing so suddenly he knocked over his chair. He winced at the noise, stuck in place as it clattered against the communal fridge. When the noise died he pocketed his phone, the evidence of his current embarrassment clear on his face. “Are you sick? You’re acting strange today.” He couldn’t bring himself to say anything in response. He was different now, not in the way she was implied, but still it left a bitter taste in his mouth. As he walked past the concerned cashier, he hung his head, trying to hide the fact his cheeks were flaring. Somehow he mumbled that he needed to go, pushing quickly past her before she could say anything, and hoping she would pass the message along as he all but ran from the breakroom.

Those red words had rattled him, even if they were probably meant as a joke. He could have stopped looking when Dave wrote the first line, because the rapping had never been as cool as Dave made it out to be. He knew it was going to at least be awkward but he hadn’t expected something quite so sexual. Why had he let it go to embarrassing lengths that made him feel just entirely too self-conscious? Dave had been making fun of him and not in the way he was used to. It had felt like he had gone way too far.

John didn’t know how to handle it. He didn’t know how to cope with any of this because it was just so new. He needed air, he needed to think and he just needed to be someplace where there weren’t so many people asking what was wrong with him. He didn’t want there to be anything wrong with him. For the first he went outside before his shift was over and just drove away.

Thirty minutes with himself as company only made matters worse. Beyond the inability to tell his dad, beyond the fact that a close friend had tore into him through homosexual innuendos, there was now the reality that he would probably be fired. He was going to be fired because he had freaked out about something that hadn’t seemed like a big deal the night before but did now. John tried to think of what he was going to say the next time he went to work. _‘Sorry. I figured out I’m probably totally bisexual and don’t like being outside my comfortable little zone of liking only girls.’_ It sounded so closed minded but essentially that was it. No matter what he could come up with, he was pretty sure employees were not allowed to leave, especially without saying anything, regardless of what was happening in their lives. He didn’t know what he was doing or why he was so useless dealing with everything but at least he knew where he needed to go.

He held himself together long enough for Anne to answer the door. He asked if he could see Karl, painting on his best smile and fooling absolutely no one. His grin cracked when she asked him if he was alright, just as everyone else had. This time, his body betrayed him as his head shook to the sides; no, he wasn’t okay. He was not okay and he wanted Karl. He wasn’t sure if she had pulled him into her arms or if he had fallen into her, all he knew was he was sobbing on the shoulder of someone he hardly knew.

“Anne, what am I supposed to after—John, what the fuck are you doing here?” John could just make out the blur of white and black standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Anne pulled away, holding him at arm’s length as she looked to Karl, probably for assistance, and John tried to clear his eyes of all the tears so that he could actually see his boyfriend. He made his best effort but it seemed to have no effect. “Oh. Oh god, come here. Shh, come here.” Karl had him before he even finished talking; wrapping his arms securely around his back while John slipped his hands in the front pockets of Karl’s hoodie. A damp hand cradled the back of his head; John took a deep inhale of soap and cinnamon. Anne had to have caught onto what was going on between them by now. There was little denying that this act alone was too close for two friend. Thankfully, she didn’t comment before Karl moved them into the living room.

“I couldn’t tell him.” John’s voice came muffled while buried against Karl’s chest, sighing as hands moved in soothing circles over his back. “I got home and I just couldn’t tell my dad and then at work everyone thought there was something wrong with me and Dave knows because I’m an idiot. I know it wasn’t what they were thinking but I felt like they could tell and I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m scared. I’m scared of what this means and I’m scared because I don’t know where we’re going and I’m scared because I’ve never had feelings like these for anyone before. I’m sorry, I like you so much, please don’t...” He wasn’t sure what he didn’t want Karl to do. Not get upset? Not break up with him over him not being okay with letting people know about them yet? He felt like crap after being so gung-ho about everything the night before and now it was like he was taking it back. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to be with Karl, but everything else was messy.

“Are you an idiot?” He should have been excepting that, for sure. Of course he was an idiot; there was a very limited extent of his mental capacity regarding all things related Karl. He had never cried so much in his life except for that one day his dad had been in the hospital. Fingers tugged his head up until their lips barely touched. While the worries were still there, they felt pale in comparison to how he felt the moment they kissed. Apparently that whole ‘kiss it better’ thing really did work sometimes. “John, see me? See how I’m not angry? Could you do me a favour and not expect me to go through the unimaginable levels of physical exertion that would be required of me to learn how to actually do a flip, so as I might artistically fling myself off the handle over you not coming out to your father after a day of knowing you are bisexual? John, I love you but sometimes you are such a fucking moron. I never expected you to just be okay with all of this, even when we’re alone it feels...”

“Fantastic.” The tips of their noses brushed together, bright eyes closing as Karl let out a contented sigh. He smiled, so slightly that someone would need to be pressed up against him to really see it. John couldn’t convince his lips to lift in anything more than a quiver in response.

“Fantastic. But this relationship is as big of a shock to you as it is to me. While I have grudgingly understood my orientation for a while, it’s not like I wanted people to find out about it. I never volunteered the information except to my dad while I was a dumb kid, and when I felt like I had to when entering foster care. Because if I didn’t I could get a family where they were really not okay with it, which I did learn the hard way. So for you to have this all suddenly dumped into your lap by a cruel twist of fate, you might feel like you need to inform everyone of this change in you. But you don’t. Fuck them. It’s personal and it’s sometimes going to seem like just asinine that people actually feel the need to voice their opinions when you set off their not-a-heterosexual radar. Some people are going to care, for whatever reason, who you find attractive due to your misguided biological makeup. The people who matter aren’t. The people who genuinely care about you won’t let it change a goddamn thing. What little consolation it is, you have me for as long as you’ll have me.” Karl tipped his head to brush their lips together again, hesitant, shy, but entirely perfect.

There was a knock on the door and Karl tried to pull away completely before John pulled them back together. It would be okay. Everything would be okay in the end, as long as Karl was holding his hand when they got there. John took a deep breath before calling out a quick, “Come in.”

“John, your father was just on the phone.” Anne paused upon entering the room, taking in the sight of the two of them holding each other far too close. Her eyes widened slightly and it was visibly like a light-bulb going off in her head. John couldn’t manage to look past Karl’s face or that determined way his eyes challenged her to disagree with their relationship. His cheeks were cranky, he looked as cranky as he ever had, but he took on whatever would happen when she opened her mouth again. “He said that your manager called to say you were missing and didn’t know where you were. He’s on his way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness. Let me just say that [CaptainZombri](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainZombri/pseuds/CaptainZombri) and I should not be allowed to talk to each other because we are plotting out AUs and stories like crazy. Speaking of, thank you dear Capt, for pretty much writing Dave's rap. You are the rapper. It is you. It is ridiculousness what we made here. So Drama Queen is winding down to its final dramatic moments, maybe a few chapters left, but I have plans to make a part two following them in university. Mostly because it doesn't look like they're doing to do the deed (you know the one) in this time-frame. Semi-realism blows like that and what is skipping days? Drama Queen 2: The Fast and the Brooding will be coming to an AO3 near you sometime after I finish other stories. Probably.
> 
> Also, I have a [tumblr](http://bananaramses.tumblr.com/) now. That seems to be a thing people have. I will mostly just post art and complain about writing , but Capt and I are plotting an AU of epic silliness so that might take over. Feel free to chat me up.


	15. In Which Karl Vantas Bakes a Pie

The start of Karl’s day had honestly been dreamlike, as sickeningly cliché as that most definitely sounded. Quite literally the guy of his dreams was now his reality, not even a week after meeting face-to-face. The straight guy of his dreams who had decided he was worth what the change meant; too good to be true. He kept thinking it would only be a matter of time before John decided that they were better off as just friends. Karl would take that as long as it meant he could be part of John’s life, but he knew after having him like he did—arms ensnaring him and lips capturing his and feeling helpless against love—anything else would just not satisfy him.

Not that he was sure of what to do with John after somehow managing to get him. It was almost surreal in how easy it had been, how little time it had taken for John to consider him as an option. All of the problems that made up his very being had somehow manifested into attraction for John, and it made about as much sense as it sounded. Karl knew their relationship would not be a walk in the park with all the issues he presented during any kind of interaction. The suddenness of John’s decision would catch up with him.

Frankly, he should have expected it when John had shown up at the house well before he was expected to, in tears. Karl should have realized just what kind of burden John faced just by being with him. It was a big change in such a short amount of time; he should have known.

“John did you actually walk out of your job without saying anything to anyone?” Karl tried to keep his usual critical tone to a minimum, soften the words and reduce the number he allowed to fall from his mouth. Concise, direct and concerned. John—who had taken verbal lashings before without breaking a sweat—winced. Instead of saying anything more, Karl curled around him, tugging closer to apologize. He knew John’s reaction was due to understanding the severity of the situation he was in. Whatever Karl would have said, he was sure he would have received the same response. He still felt bad for saying anything at all.

“I, yeah, I did. It was just too much to even think about and I just needed to, I don’t know, see you and tell you what was happening. I don’t know what to do about any of it and I’m just so unsure of everything.” _Oh_. Karl really should have realized where the breakdown would inevitably lead. He looked away, struggling to remove himself from his _friend_ before falling into his usual hysterics. John latched onto him before he could squirm away, all wide eyes and lips quivering.

“No, not unsure about us,” John continued frantically, running his hands over Karl’s arms. It was meant to be comforting, but it was hard to relax when John looked moments away from tears. “This is the only thing I’m really sure about. I want to be with you, Karl. I really, really want to be with you. But I don’t know where you want to go with me. Like, how is it going to work out in a couple months when I head off at school? How much of a future will we have together? I’m thinking of dumb things like that and it’s adding to the fact that I’ve changed a lot in the past couple of days.”

“John Egbert, first and foremost, I have every intention to never let you out of my greedy little clutches, even if someone much more suited for you shows up to sweep you off your feet. And despite how that comically alludes to a rather brazen woman, I’m completely serious in my decision to challenge any advances directed your way well beyond the foreseeable future. Interpreted that as you will.”

John stared at him, eyes too big and full of too many worries. Karl sighed, leaning in the short expanse between them to meet his boyfriend’s lips. It was meant to be reassuring gesture, a ghost pressure moved across warm skin. John made a quiet whimper as Karl drew away, trying to follow and continue the short kiss. For the sheer number of times he was confessing them, Karl felt like he had to explain his feelings just as often. He had a feeling John could relate to that.

“I want to spend my life with you, idiot; I’ve wanted that since the day after I met you. I am unquestionably enamoured with you and your stupid face to the point of it being terminal. Whatever you want to be with me, so long as I’m by your side, I’ll be set to continue on in this disease called love. How it was not glaringly obvious is the real shocker. Did I stutter somewhere or have you finally decided to be a rational human being and agreed with the general consensus that tuning me out is for the best?”

“I would never tune you out, you’re just vague sometimes. But gosh Karl, I want that too,” John murmured, a large grin breaking the heavy mood. While smiling was still something to become used to, Karl was aware of how much practice he was getting. He had John to blame for that. He really wasn’t sure how John could sound so honest about his intentions after minimal time with the newfound feeling. It may have been spoken in ignorance but the idea that they would last made Karl inexplicably happy.

“I love you, dumbass. That’s not going to change.” John snuggled in close, tucking his head under Karl’s chin before releasing a contented sigh. They had reached the eye of the emotional storm, a calm before all hell broke loose again. Karl was glad he could offer some kind of distraction before Mr. Egbert arrived. “Whatever happens—whatever anyone says or does or thinks about anything related to you changing slightly when you’re good and ready to tell them—I love you.”

A few gentle raps on the door interrupted them. John looked up quickly, head knocking into Karl’s jaw as he pulled away, panic and nervousness returning to stir up every inch of him.

“Boys, can we come in?” Anne called lightly. John flashed an apologetic look at Karl, scooting back to press against the arm of the couch. The only contact they maintained was their linked hands, John’s fingers constricting around Karl’s until his knuckles were white. Despite the situation of his boyfriend, it made him somewhat relieved that John didn’t want to continue cuddling. While Anne had witnessed a desperate hug when John had arrived, what they had just been doing was much more intimate. It was an act that required vulnerability, a side that Karl was not eager to show anyone else.

“Um, yeah,” John responded, nervously expelling a shaky breath. He ducked his head, red dusting his cheeks and only looked up when both Anne and his own father were seated. Karl realized then that he intended to tell his father about what was happening and, in conjunction with that, what they were together. He kept his eyes on the two adults, forcing himself not to be afraid or ashamed or give into any number of negativity that were just waiting to break his regular scowl. He needed to be strong for John, no matter how much he wanted to run.

“Son, what happened?” Mr. Egbert started, calm tone carrying gently, no edge hidden within the words. He was only concerned for the state of his son, not angry for what he had done. Karl found him almost irritating in his dedication to being someone to trust. Though there was little doubt there would be some kind of punishment for his boy’s rash actions, Mr. Egbert only now wanted to understand the reason. He reminded Karl very much of his own father, before the accident had taken him away. Mr. Egbert gave the impression of being kind, almost to a fault, a trait he had passed on to his son. He wanted to be a good father.

“Okay. So, I have been sort of an idiot about this. Maybe more than sort of, actually, since I left work and was all hysterical and am kind of still freaking out about it. I might take a second here to actually come out and say it,” John winced at the phrase, squeezing Karl’s hand tighter. All Karl wanted to do was stand them both up, get them hell out of the room as quickly as possible, and hide away in each other’s arms away from everything else. But John was the kind of person who needed more than one person in his life and John was the type of person who didn’t hide. So Karl was cemented there at his side, and could only run his thumb over the back of John’s, trying to speak a volume of emotions though such a minimal gesture. “Is it okay with you if I say it, Karl?”

“What are you asking me for?” Karl could see it in his eyes that John was searching for any excuse not to say it and he couldn’t blame him for not wanting to. But it was a personal decision to share that information with a parent and Karl had no right to make it. He had expressed that there was no rush to go public with his feelings for another guy, and that was really all he could again. He just hoped that John had considered the absolute worst case scenario, the highly negative reaction that could potentially occur, before proceeding. Not everyone in the world was accepting. Some people you thought you could trust could turn on you. It happened more often than Karl would have liked. John was still looking at him for answers. “This is up to you, John. If you think it’s the right time or if you don’t, that’s fine with me. I’m here no matter what you say.”

“See, it’s things like that, right there. You’re in my head and I can’t get you out and I really never want to because you just say beautiful things.” John honestly looked like he was caught between crying and reaching out to smash their faces together. With a huff of breath, he turned back to his father, “And it might seem like I’m rambling and trying to delay what was wrong because I’m nervous but this is really the whole point. Dad, this is it. This morning, when I said it wasn’t something Karl did, but then I said it was but wasn't bad, I was talking about this; us.” John held up their joined hands, shaking them back and forth for good measure.

Karl watched the adults for their reactions, trying to gauge their opinions of the news. It was obvious what John was insinuating, what their clasped hands meant, so he expected something immediately. Well, Anne was smiling rather broadly, so Karl could count her being positive about it. But she had known how Karl had felt about John already, while everything about this was news for Mr. Egbert. It was hard to tell what he was thinking as he calmly took them in, and John took the pause as a sign to continue.

“Dad, I love you and you know I totally trust you with everything, which is why I’m telling you about this after it only just became a thing. This is really new to me too but I want you to know what’s going on. I was freaking out about it this morning and didn’t know how to tell you. Then I didn’t know how you would react, or if you would be disappointed in me because I’m not dating a girl. I thought I could keep pretending like I was the same me as I always was, and I mostly still am, but I just felt like everyone could tell something was different. They were probably just picking up on how worried I was about them finding out before I was ready. But it’s okay. It’s okay because it’s Karl and I really, really like him. So, I guess in short, I’m not straight.”

John’s eyes glistened as he waited for his father’s response, hopeful and pleading in the silence to be accepted. Karl fought the urge to say something on John’s behalf, perhaps even to apologize for John’s realized orientation since he had everything to do with him realizing it now. But he kept quiet because he wasn’t sorry. He loved John and he wasn’t going to pretend to regret the chance he was getting. At least John didn’t have to wait for very long.

“You’re my son, nothing will change that. I know it was hard for you to tell me this, especially when you’ve only just begun to understand it yourself. Thank you for trusting me.” Mr. Egbert smiled gently; light trails of tears falling down his cheeks. He was visibly moved by his son’s bravery, not upset or disappointed or even confused. He was just accepting it all: what it meant, who his son wanted to be with and all of it. To Karl’s side, John was hiccupping, choking on gasps of breath in between relieved laughter. He let go of Karl’s hand to cross the short distance to his father’s chair, holding his arms out wide. Mr. Egbert stood, gripping his son tightly and patting him on the back for good measure. “I will always support you, no matter who you decided to be with, as long as they make you happy.”

“Karl does, dad.” Over John’s shoulder, Mr. Egbert gave Karl what seemed to be an approving nod. He was okay with his son dating a boy and Karl really didn’t know if he could contain his feelings about it for much longer. It was odd for things to work out so well. There had to be some kind of monumental catch for him to be this happy. Anne, bless her, decided that the two of them should let the Egberts have a moment to themselves. At least one of them could read a mood and respond accordingly.

Anne headed straight for the kitchen upon exiting the room, jogging Karl’s memories as to what they had been in the middle of when John had arrived. When she had found out he really had nothing to do after formally quitting his two jobs—Mr. Smith had the foresight to contact them in advance about Karl’s foster situation, so they simply offered references when he called days after—she roped him into helping her bake.

It wasn’t as terrible as he thought it would be and he was entirely surprised he hadn’t fucked everything up by ‘assisting’. Baking was full of set measurements and, if he followed each step while paying attention to Anne’s movements, the end result would be more or less correct. He had cooked for himself, thrown together items and hoped for something edible to be the result, but he had never baked anything. He let Anne aware of that fact. Numerous times. While she suspected he was just trying to get out of something he may have perceived as being ‘girly’, he really just didn’t want to ruin whatever she was making. But she had insisted, stating that the only way to learn was to try and stood next to him as they went through the motions together. They had left off just before Anne’s crash course in weaving a lattice top out of strips of pie dough.

“Well then! These pies aren’t going to up and finish themselves. Shall we?” She smiled cheerfully, tying her flour dusted apron back into place. Karl was absently glad that he had forgone her offered spare; John would never have let him live down even the most utilitarian, stark white apron.

“Do you honestly think that I can’t tell how badly you want to say something about what you just heard in there? If this is an attempt to misdirect the conversation to anything but what you really want to talk until I am comfortable enough to bring it up on my own, it’s rather transparent. That touching display of fatherly love doesn’t exempt the whole reasoning for it. Do you happen to have any long, sharp needles laying around because I feel the unshakable desire to lobotomize myself before I allow myself to get into a hysterical rambling about my life again.”

“Of course I would like to talk about it but I don’t want to force you. Lay the strips out like this.” Anne demonstrated positioning five strips of dough across the top of their pies. Karl sighed, deciding to forgo the topic at least until they were done fucking around with assembling pies. He copying her motions of folding back every other piece and slipping strips perpendicular to the parallel pieces. Karl was getting serious flashbacks to his younger years when school had consisted of dumb shit like weaving construction paper together. He had regressed back to kindergarten.

“I don’t know what there is to talk about or even where to start on all the nonsensical gibberish that I might blurt out to convey my thoughts about this,” Karl said, feeling safe that he wasn’t about to destroy anything with being distracted. Folding back the rim of the shell over the lattice work and pinching the dough in what he assumed was for aesthetic purposes wasn’t exactly rocket science. Of course, Anne was purposely being slow about finishing hers before he did, but he didn’t think he was doing a bad job.

“John Egbert somehow decided it would be a good idea to try and date me, for some reason that I can’t fully fathom or just out of the sheer kindness of his bottomless heart. That boy is a fucking saint for even considering to put up with me and he doesn’t even know the half of it yet. While I’m ecstatic I’m just as worried that I’m going to do something wrong.”

“I haven’t known you for very long, but John has. He doesn’t seem like the type to do what he just did if he wasn’t serious about being with you.” She smiled, looking up from her plate and over to Karl’s. “That looks absolutely lovely! Let’s get them in the oven.”

After Anne wrapped foil around the edges, Karl slipped his dish of apples and buttery dough into the oven. His pie, being assembled with only minimal aid, did not look quite as neat as hers did. It would taste the same though. As Gami would say, no matter the appearance or if it got a little smooshed somewhere along its way into a mouth, all pie was a motherfucking miracle. Which made no sense and was completely stupid—Karl missed talking to him but at least he was getting the help he needed.

“I’m in a state of shock over it. I’m not sure what to do because I hadn’t really considered things progressing to or past this point. It’s the first relationship I’ve had, with the only person I ever wanted to have one with. I had my first kiss last night by tumbling over any kind of boundaries and stealing it when I assumed he was sleeping. I was disgusted with myself for doing something so pitiful.

“So when he asked me to kiss him again, I wasn’t even sure I could handle it. I thought he had to be joking and, when I got that he wasn’t pranking me because he just kept kissing me, I figured he was ignoring that I was a guy. I still think he really hasn’t fully understood that I’m not like any of the girlfriends he has had and I know he hadn’t seen a lot of the bad in me. While I’m beside myself with glee over being free to kiss him on his dumb mouth, I’m terrified now that I have him. I know I’m going to do something to lose him.”

“Honey, you might want to try having more confidence in yourself, as well as in John.” She reached out tentatively, letting her hand hover close to Karl’s arm, before dropping it to her side. “I’m not going to pretend that your relationship will be perfect, because none are. Like any of the best things in life, you’ll have to work for it. If this is what you both really want then I don’t think anything anyone does or says can really threaten what the two of you feel about each other. I’d like to support the two of you, in whatever way I can. I’m sure Gil will feel the same.”

It was an odd feeling to have someone be so supportive of his sexuality, much less about his fumbling beginnings of his same sex relationship. Was she just following steps on how to react in the kind of situation she was in? As an emergency foster home for short stay kids, Karl has suspicions that he was hardly the worst they had seen. It wouldn’t be a stretch to believe she was just going through the motions of it so he felt better.

“I’m a stupid teenager with a rather serious case of first love. Cut the bullshit already; you must be thinking that it won’t last.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” She leaned back against the counter, tentatively tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “When I was eleven I was adopted and who did I meet on the very first day starting in a new school? Gilbert Blythe. It was hardly love at first sight. He immediately called me a name, I broke heaven knows what over his head and, to make a long story short, a rivalry was born. I didn’t talk to him for almost three years, I was just furious at him!

“But something happened and I didn’t hate him as much as I would have liked to. Then not at all. We were about your age when we got married. Some people thought we were mad but we were just in love.” She fondly brushed flour off of her wedding band, a simple circle of gold with a single, barely there diamond. “When love is real, I don’t think it matters if you’re a ‘stupid teenager’ or an adult. I’m not going to tell you your feelings aren’t as deep as you feel that they are.”

Karl opened his mouth to say something but couldn’t quite find a way to respond. Did he thank her? Was he supposed to hug her or something after they had sort of bonded? No one but his online friends ever talked to him about romance, and even then they didn’t really care about his own troubles. Anne may have been trying to steer him in the right direction because she felt that she could fix him, but it was still a lot more than any other foster parent had done. Or maybe it was that he was noticing that some people sensibly wanted to help, after opening himself enough to listen. Just as he awkwardly patted her arm—which was obviously not the right gesture but he needed to do _something_ —a red eyed, sniffling John entered the room.

Karl breathed out a sigh of relief, mostly due to the fact that John was smiling like he had just won the lottery of life, and only partially in thanks to his boyfriend for interrupting. John headed over to Karl’s spot, seated on top of the kitchen counter. When John was in front of him, he leaned forward and placed his hands on either side of Karl’s legs. Karl had half the mind to blush and would have if John hadn’t been wearing his shit-eating, _‘I’m going to say something dumb which I think is hilarious’_ , grin.

“What ‘cha cookin’, good lookin’?” He winked. John deserved much more that the light swat that he received. “Ow, okay, jeeze. But seriously, something smells great and it’s not just you.” Karl hardly noticed Mr. Egbert enter the room, standing back with Anne and to just watch the two of them.

“Get out of here and don’t come back until you’re done handing out your empty complements to every stranger you meet within a five mile radius. That should get it out of your system and, with any luck, someone will do me a favour and abduct you.” John just wiggled his eyebrows and leaned in a little closer, because he was immune to any form of snarky bullshit. Fuck. He had nearly forgotten all the flirting that John had done before even realizing his feelings. “None of that I really mean, of course. We’re making pie. Or, we made pie and the oven is doing most of the work now.”

“Aw, dude, you’re not even wearing an apron. Crushing my dreams.” John leaned in a bit too close and Karl pushed him back to a reasonable distance. Nothing was going to happen in front of the adults. Even John standing in front of him while other people were in the room was making him uncomfortable.

“Do you have some kind of apron kink that I should be aware of?” John laughed, grinning slyly and damn him for it. He was clearly doing it to make Karl frazzled while no one else could tell what he was doing.

“Shh, buddy, ixnay on the inkskay. Parental figures right behind us, eavesdropping. They’ve just seen us hold hands and now they’re listening to us talk about that kind of thing? They really don’t need to be present for the first conversation we have about things we like, like that.” Karl wasn’t sure if he was just joking around or offhandedly admitting to getting off on the thought of people in aprons; things he didn’t need to be thinking about in front of his boyfriend’s father. Someone had cranked the oven or something because it was suddenly hot as hell in the kitchen.

“Speaking of parental figures, Anne and I need to have a chat. Why don’t you two wait out in the living room?” They agreed, since there wasn’t much to do in the kitchen except wait for the oven timer to beep. The two adults were all smiles and quick waves as they left. “Stay out of trouble, kids.”

While Karl was hesitant to leave, worried about what they could be talking about in privacy, John promptly distracted him with popping in a DVD. While Men In Black was admittedly pretty okay, if only for Will Smith’s expert portrayal as New York City detective James Darrell Edwards III turned MIB Agent J, it wasn’t what caught his attention. John’s arm around his shoulder was pretty significant.

Sometime during the first half of the movie, someone came in through the front door. It seemed early for Gilbert to be home but Karl really didn’t know his schedule. He taught at a nearby college and postsecondary had strange hours, which included weekends. Karl shrugged it off and they continued to lose track of time while curled around each other. What really made them both aware that over an hour had passed was the timer beeping in the kitchen. And the parents were still talking.

“What is going on, John?” Karl asked, finding the warm arm that held him was not enough to quell the unease in his voice. He had known that that they were going to talk about him and John, not something innocent as their smiles had suggested. There was one common thread that the adults shared and that was being involved in the foster care system. From his experience, they were trying to settle something that would push him into his greatest fear. The only thing that would set him off more was if Mr. Smith came knocking on the door.

“I don’t know. Maybe dad is just getting some tips for those tests he has to take? Do you think we should check in on them and see what’s up?” Karl was up without answering, wincing as he moved too quickly for his ever aching ribs. John followed silently, reaching out to grip his hand. He didn’t need Karl to explain in order to sense the downwards spiral of the mood. “Whatever it is, we’re in it together.”

“I don’t think we have much of a choice in this.” He opened the door to the kitchen without knocking, radiating defiance and his usual air of _pissed off_. If he was angry, he was less likely to be visibly hurt by them. “Care to let us in on the potentially life altering decision you’re all making? I have a sneaking suspicion that it will bend me over and thoroughly screw me, so you could at least have the decency in letting me know what’s coming.”

“Take a seat, boys,” Mr. Egbert urged, gesturing to the empty seats at the table. Karl stood his ground. He’d take it on his own terms, and he wasn’t going to let them coddle him or try to comfort him though it. “We’ve been trying to determine what to do about your living situation, Karl. I would like to foster you, I truly would. I think having John in your life is going to help you recover from what happened to you. However, it’s not a good idea to start out a relationship in that kind of arrangement.”

It was all Karl could do to keep breathing. Mr. Egbert didn’t want his son’s boyfriend living with them. Anne and Gilbert were a short stay home. Foster care could place him anywhere in the country. They were pushing him out, somewhere else, and away from John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But guys. Guys. You’re forgetting about the pies. Guys, who cares about who lives where, there are two apple pies that are probably making the whole house smell like pie and you’re not even eating them. I bet there is caramel ice cream to put on those pies while they are still hot and delicious, which no one is going to experience because they are too busy being dramatic. (Why the hell did I decide that pie was going to be a huge thing in this chapter? Who lets me write these things?)
> 
> I’m sick, because Capt. gave me her cold through the interwebs. I have no idea how she did it, but she did.


	16. In Which John Egbert Runs Away With His Boyfriend, Down the Block

The remainder of the day had been set up to end off pretty great in John’s opinion: coming out as not a heterosexual to his father and being accepted, check; pie, lovingly crafted by his boyfriend, baking in the oven, check; Men In Black playing on the TV while his arm was slung around Karl’s shoulder, totally check. He could almost forget how he had flipped out at work less than two hours before. Though, not even the oddly soothing voice of Will Smith could fully erase the red lines of text, which had made up a totally inappropriate rap, from his brain. It would probably haunt him for the rest of his life; John was fighting the urge to Google some of the references Dave had made. He made a mental note beside the rap that he owed Dave one monumental prank, which may or may not have involved his friend being shoved down a flight of _too cool for school_ stairs.

The vendetta against Dave could wait a little while though. Snuggling with his boyfriend was pretty important. John watched the movie with minimal commentary on his part, content to just enjoy the company of someone who, up until a couple days ago, had just been his best friend. He leaned in closer, catching the scent of shampoo and cinnamon; he was pretty sure best friends didn’t go around sniffing each other's hair. Out of the corner of his eye, John could see Karl fight down a smile until he gave up trying to hide it. When John nudged him and asked what he was thinking about, Karl just mumbled back that he was just happy. They sat side by side after that, enjoying the movie together, until it had become evident that too much time had gone by.

Karl was quick to jump to conclusions about what the adults were all talking about in the privacy of the kitchen. John wanted to tell him that it was probably nothing, except then he turned out to be right. It felt crushing when his dad announced that after all the stuff Karl had gone through, he didn’t want them to live together. Of course John could understand what his dad saw when he looked at them: they were hopelessly young, they had spent the lesser part of a week with each other, and moving in with anyone shouldn’t be rushed, especially when romantic feelings were involved. There was still a lot they had to learn about each other—even things like Karl’s laugh and his eyes were things John was still getting used to—and living together could add stress on Karl when he should focus on recovering. John understood, but he couldn’t help but feel a sting of betrayal.

In the moments after the initial announcement, Karl looked about as intimidating as a deer caught in a couple of high beams: confused and terrified, yet standing firmly in place as he waited for some kind of impact. When John reached out to touch his boyfriend, Karl recoiled in on himself, taut arms wrapping around his body to hide clenched fists. He looked so defeated as he let out a single shaky sigh, and it physically hurt to see him like that. It wasn’t fair. Why was it that when Karl’s life was getting marginally better he was knocked back down? John wanted to announce it for what it was to him—total bullshit—but Karl beat him to it.

“I fucking knew it.” John could almost hear the switch go off the moment that vulnerability suddenly changed to aggression. His lips curled into a snarl as his body lowered into a position that looked like he was seriously going to fight someone. “You all think think it’s just a fantastic idea for me to be close to John, if only because he keeps my usual charming self in a sedated stupor of love-sickness. And you’re right, John is pretty much the only person offline that I give a shit about and who for some reason actually gives one in return, so I try to tone it down so he doesn’t realize his mistake. But seriously, it’s almost too rich how unnecessarily melodramatic this all is. Despite what all you may think, I’m not a child and it’s not the first time I’ve gone through the system. It certainly isn’t the first time I’ve been told to take a seat while people try to feed me baked goods and kindly point out how defective I am. I get it. No one wants Karl, surprise sur-fucking-prise. Excuse me if I don’t gasp out in surprise over that shocking revelation. In case you weren’t privy to the memo, it’s the story of my life. Footnote: I don’t blame you for wanting me as far out of your lives as possible. If I could, I’d get the hell away from myself too.”

Karl’s movements were exaggerated when he was angry, his good arm making agitated sweeps as he spoke too fast for someone who was just okay with the situation. John was starting to really understand that his idea of defending himself was to treat himself like crap, so nothing anyone said could be worse than what he thought. Because that’s what he always did, even online. Before it had always just seemed like a lot of words stringed into an over the top rant from a verbose teen. John has thought it was kind of funny before, but it was anything but that hearing it out-loud.

Karl was making it really clear that he actually believed what he was saying. It hurt, like someone had decided to roundhouse kick John in the heart, for someone he cared about so much to think so little of himself. Karl was pleading for everyone to be fed up with him to the point where they would leave him alone. He was attacking himself so others didn’t beat him to the punch and it wasn’t right. The only thing Karl wanted out of this was to be left alone to hate himself. What he really was succeeding in doing was expressing how not okay he was, and how badly he needed someone’s help.

“Karl, no, sweetie, it’s not like that.” Anne gently spoke as she reached out to him. Karl took a quick step back, flinching away from the potential touch with a grimace. It was painful to see him assume someone was going to assault him when they just wanted to offer comfort. That it had happened enough for it to become instinct. John wasn’t sure if Karl would even hold his hand if he offered it in that moment, if he’d be afraid John might hurt him too.

“Anne, frankly you can take your empty sentiments and shove it right alongside your apology pie. At the end of the day you can feel good about being the middleman for fucked up kids going from one family to another. Your job is done. What do you want from me? Do you want me to be happy that I’m going to be placed in a home out of a social worker’s convenience and not my own? Want me to be thankful that the exponentially unlikely occurrence of life not flipping me off will not happen again and the chances of me being this close to John again are nauseatingly improbable at best? Thank you for providing a roof over my head for less than three days. I am only sorry I don’t have a fucking medal to hand out after what must have been such a trying time. This, as in my life, doesn’t concern you, so stop pretending it does.”

Karl maintained his irate expression even as the tears ran down his cheeks. He ignored them thoroughly, not even blinking as they spilt over, as if by not acknowledging them it meant that they weren’t there. John decided to carefully try for Karl’s hand. He had to do something and, even if it wouldn’t help them get through the situation they were it, there might be some small comfort in the gesture. Karl latched onto him like a lifeline.

“Hey, um, I think the two of us should go for a walk,” John said, thumb trying to relax the vice-like grip Karl had on his fingers. “We just need to cool off. I don’t even know what I’ll do right now. So, Karl? Is that okay? Want to go?” Instead of saying anything in reply, Karl proceeded to nearly wrench John’s arm out of its socket as he rushed them out of the kitchen. John stumbled as he followed him up the stairs, wondering why they hadn’t left straight through the front door. When Karl got to his room, he let go of John to all but throw a hat on his head and grab a pair of sunglasses. They rattled in his shaking hands.

“Fuck,” Karl’s voice cracked, breath hitching mid-way through the familiar curse. “Just, fuck my life.” His knees looked about ready to buckle as he dropped the glasses in favour of covering his eyes. John wrapped that boy up in his arms, whispered words he wanted to be sure of, and tried not to give into the feeling welling in his eyes.

“We’ll figure it out. It will be okay, we’ll get through it. We’ll think of something.” It was agonizing just to see Karl get knocked down again, and devastating to know that this decision was not up to them. He wanted to be able to protect Karl from the bad in life but he felt helpless in the situation they were in. There was one option came to mind that would allow them to take things into their own hands. “You know, we could run away. Like in one of your romances; we could elope and just, be happy together.”

Karl looked up at him with wide, wet eyes, searching his face for any chance that John could be joking. The swelling was gone from around the right, though the discoloration was just as vividly purple. He chewed on his bottom lip, mindfully avoiding the split that marred skin, taking his time with responding to the suggestion. John didn’t want to allow a sliver of chance that Karl could get hurt again, and if he was sent away there was the chance—his thoughts were interrupted as Karl punched him hard on the shoulder.

“Ow hey! I’m being serious! We’re seventeen, we’re old enough to do something here and make some decisions.” Karl glared momentarily before sighing, retrieving his sunglasses and resting them on the brim of his hat. He shrugged on a light hoodie—John realized it wasn’t because it was cool outside but because any extended exposure to the sun would probably burn him pretty badly—letting John help to maneuver the left sleeve around his cast.

“And you deserved that because you’re actually serious about it. Are you a moron? Rhetorical question, John, it’s ingrained into your very existence. In what universe do you think two seventeen year olds would make a decent living to match a particular lifestyle at least one has grown accustomed to, in or around Seattle? We’re hardly capable of taking care of ourselves, let alone each other. Sure, we could both work full time retail, as that’s what it would ultimately come down to with our job experience. We’d make enough for an apartment somewhere, but what kind of a life is that compared to what you could have originally had? It’s not as if you could afford post secondary without the financial support of your father, unless you’ve saved up twenty grand on your own. Of course you could pay by the semester or take out a loan, but in that case we’d be living off my measly salary or paying back loans into our forties. It’s completely immature to jeopardize your entire education for what will be one year without me. I’ve thought about it. It’s not going to happen because I’m not willing to let you fuck up your life for me. It was a romantic suggestion though.”

“I just I hate that there’s nothing we can do short of that to be together though. Or if there is I can’t really think of it and it’s so frustrating. Right now I’m willing to do it though. Without any hesitation, like, we could go now because my car’s outside. I want to be able to take care of you the way I want to, I don’t want to lose seeing you every day.” Karl offered him a lopsided smile along with his hand, tugging him out of the room. Once they were safely outside of the house and out of range for adults to hear their conversation, Karl continued.

“Who knows, Smith might find a place in this state or the next one over for me. It could happen. If I was within feasible transit distance, meaning within a ten hour travel bracket, I’d come back to see you as often as possible without pissing off my next foster family.”

“You don’t have to do that, I can drive to you. I’d want to see you just as much. Anyways, jeeze dude, you walk super fast.” John struggled to match the pace Karl was setting as they headed down the sidewalk. Apparently Karl’s idea of going for a walk was to rush like he had somewhere to be. They were kind of supposed to be clearing their heads and taking their time to come to terms with what John’s dad had said.

“I probably should have put on sunscreen,” Karl mumbled, drawing the brim of his hat further down and hunching his shoulders to hide his neck. Karl did slow down to match John’s more leisurely pace, drawing nearly close enough for their arms to touch. John really had to resist reaching out the few inches to hold Karl’s hand and the only reason he didn’t was because they were more or less in public. Sure, there weren’t too many people around, but there were enough for John to feel self conscious.

“Should we head back?” John asked. He didn’t know how sensitive Karl’s skin was, but he figured for someone lacking melanin, less time in the sun was better. That extra layer also didn’t look very comfortable to be wearing in the summer but it was probably better than the alternative. They could always just head up to Karl’s room and come down when they had talked about what had happened.

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not going to burst into flames after a couple of minutes of daylight hitting my pasty self. Maybe if we decided to dick around for an hour you could witness my spontaneous combustion; I’m sure it would not only be entertaining but also a relief to everyone.” John wanted to comment that he quite liked how fair Karl’s skin was and that it wasn’t something he should consider bad just because it was different. He wanted to get rid of those negative thoughts his boyfriend had—the ones which insisted that the world would be better off without him—so he could just see how precious he was to their friend, and especially to John. Karl quickly continued, changing the subject away from the put down as he caught John’s frown. “Let’s go to the corner, I’m pretty sure I saw a 7-11 last time we drove down there and, well, it’s fucking hot.”

“Are you suggesting we get a Slurpee?” Karl knocked their shoulders together before drifting further apart. John felt as his cheeks flared, noticing Karl placing a few more steps between them. Had they still been walking a bit too close? Being mindful of distance was something John would have to work on. That was, until they were comfortable enough with what they were together to not care about the opinions of others. John was starting to get that it could really take some time for both of them, to overcome their difficulties. He wanted to be okay with it soon—okay with the fact everyone would not be okay with them—so he could proudly hold Karl’s hand all the time instead of just thinking how nice it would be.

“Are you suggesting we share again?” Karl asked, casting John a curious look. Right. Things that helped to be instantly recognized as a couple: co-drinking a Slurpee. John shrugged, wondering to himself if anyone even noticed the last time. “On the condition of you having no control as to what goes in it, fine. We can continue making a thing of sharing cold beverages.” John laughed, agreeing to the terms only when his fingers were security crossed behind his back.

A couple of blocks and the span of one 7-11 later, John may have seized control of what went in their enormous Slurpee when Karl was contemplating on which flavour to partake in. There was a slight possibility that he had yanked the plastic cup out of his boyfriend’s hands and proceeded to mix every single offered kind together, while said boyfriend insisted that he cease and desist the travesty he was set on causing. The memory of the event was hazy at best and John stuck to that story. The facts were that their Slurpee somehow looked like sludge water and may have tasted similar to it, with a bucket of added sugar.

Karl refused to have anything to do with it, making a show of tapping his foot as John purchased the _abomination_. He huffed, fiddling with his sunglasses and wouldn’t even try it until after John survived his first sip. It wasn’t the worst mass combo of Slurpee flavours John had ever tried, so he gave it a hesitant pass. After a quick swallow and no immediate signs of lapsing into a sugar coma, he held out the cup to Karl before they left the store. Karl grimaced as the slush ran over his taste buds and looked downright offended.

“Don’t give me that look, you should keep an open mind and try new things. Where’s your sense of adventure?” Karl’s expression did not shift from being disgusted, and John wasn’t sure if that look was meant for him or the Slurpee. “Come on, dude. How was I supposed to know blue raspberry, cherry orange blitz, banana, fruit punch, Coke, Sprite and Mountain Dew Blue Shock didn’t go well together? They all looked good.” Karl continued to glare so John took to staring right back at him, waiting until one of them blinked. Upon losing the little contest, Karl threw a quick punch to John’s arm, perhaps hoping to dislodge the plastic cup from his hand. No such luck.

“You are finishing this and I am getting my own. This is the very definition of an atrocity and has no right to continue existing, not in our lifetime. I almost want to vomit just so a part of it is no longer inside me, though it would all be in vain since its essence of artificial sweeteners and dyes has already entered my bloodstream. Cut me and I would bleed this Slurpee. Wait here with your shitty excuse for a drink or, better idea, do me and it a kindness and throw it the fuck out. I don’t want to kiss the mouth that has had that horse piss swimming around inside it.”

“Aw, Karl, I’m sorry,” John laughed. How could anyone but Karl get so worked up over a few not great flavours mixing around in a cup? His reaction deserved a dramatic return. “I’ll throw it out if you really don’t want it to exist. Poor thing. Such a short life; this world was never meant for one as beautiful as it. What’s that Slurpee? You want Karl to drink you? You want Karl to give you one more chance? I don’t know, Slurpee. He doesn’t seem to love you as much as I love you. He does not know how.” John shook the cup a little in what he thought was a tempting little dance of seduction. How could Karl resist that?

“You are an idiot.” Karl insisted firmly, reluctantly taking hold of the offered straw and drawing a brief sip. He managed the small amount with a heavy gulp, after which he stuck out his tongue in revulsion. What a cutie; full points. “My first impression was correct; this is still vile. Are you happy?”

“Yes, very.” And he was, despite what they had gone through already and what they were going through now. Though Karl was questioning another subject entirely, being with him in these stupid moments—where they were free to be themselves and exchange words about nothing in particular—made him undeniably happy. “I’m really am, Karl.” He reached out, brushing his boyfriend’s arms in hopes to convey that he wasn’t just talking about the drink anymore. Karl’s cheeks rushed with colour and he ducked away back to the Slurpee machines, mumbling what sounded like a _‘me too’_.

John had taken his abomination out back and put it out of its misery in the dumpster by the time Karl had selected the flavour he wanted. With a cup consisting solely of blue raspberry passed between them, they headed back to the foster home. When they reached the door, both of their tongues were stained blue and John more or less didn’t want to throw a huge fit about what had happened before. Of course he didn’t want to accept that Karl would be taken from him, but he was more willing to listen after taking a break and cooling down. If they requested it, would social services place Karl close by? Would asking nicely be enough or would John have to wreak prankster hell upon everyone involved until they met his demands? The answers to those internal questions would be supplied sooner rather than later; Mr. Smith was the first to greet them upon re-entering the home.

“Hello boys,” the social worker said, wearing a broad smile. Karl promptly chose to ignore him as he headed in the direction of his room, while John offered up a quick greeting. As they climbed the stairs, Mr. Smith called after them: “Come down to the kitchen when you’re ready.” In John’s head, the cheerful tone sounded much more ominous than it should have.

Karl’s feet drummed heavily as he stomped to his room. Once Karl shrugged off his hoodie, removed the sunglasses and tossed the cap onto the bed, he dragged his good hand through his sweat slickened hair. Regardless of the situation they were about to face, that gesture proved to be much more interesting than it had any right to be. It really wasn’t a good time to zone out about how unintentionally sexy his boyfriend was. They were about to work out a living situation, not make-out. John fought his attention, trying to focus.

“I don’t suppose we can just stay up here until they forget that we were supposed to be included in their adult conversation. Smith seemed pretty eager to work, judging by that cheery little display downstairs. We might as well consume more than our fair share of pie while they repeat what they said before, and we don’t have a say in anything else that’s happening regardless. Feel free to let your inner clown out and throw one at Smith’s face; the pie, John, it beckons. With that seed of tomfoolery planted in your mind, let’s get this over with.”

“Wait,” John said, reaching out as his boyfriend moved towards the open door. Karl stopped, pivoting to face him with a questioning look. “Can I kiss you first, before we go?” With a roll of his eyes Karl walked away and John thought he was going to ignore the request. Which was fine, they didn’t have to do it just because John did. He just sort of wanted to say something and be romantic about it. However, instead of leaving the room Karl nudged the door closed, then turned to lean against it.

“Well?” The open invitation was immediately accepted with perhaps too much gusto. John had all intentions to keep the kiss short, faint and most of all sweet but then Karl swept his hair back again. Then he shifted his weight uncomfortably as he waited for John to move, nervously biting his blue tinted lip while red eyes watch him under long white lashes. There were too many factors that pushed John beyond anything chaste. What they ended up doing was breathlessly clinging to each other after a brief yet enthusiastic mini-make-out session. “Oh god, John. What the hell was that about?”

“Whatever happens down there, we’re still together. Wherever they take you, they can never take away how much I care about you. This isn’t going to change anything between us.” Karl nodded, just breathing for a long minute before placing a single phantom kiss on his lips. That was everything John had wanted to give him. He tucked Karl into him to rest his head on the other boy’s shoulder, listening to a quick string of soft confessions as they were whispered against his ear. The two held onto one another until their breaths evened before Karl pulled away.

“As much as I am for keeping this door closed for the remainder of the day, we should probably not keep them all waiting. I have this fear that the longer we prolonged this, the further away Smith will place me. Which is irrational, I know, because it’s his job to find me a safe place and try to make me comfortably complacent with being passed around like a nasty head cold, but there it is. Come on.”

John and Karl re-entered the kitchen, hand in hand, braced for a repeat of what was said before. The mood in the room was oddly light for what they’d be discussing. Everyone looked pretty cheery: his dad was caught up in telling a story to Gilbert and Mr. Smith, both of whom were laughing away, while Anne was getting down dessert plates from a cabinet. There were two apple pies waiting on the table, with a big tub of homemade ice cream next to them. John sized them up, wondering which was Karl’s and which one was the one he was permitted to toss.

“Come on, have a seat,” John’s dad said, breaking from whatever he was talking about before to gesture toward two empty chair. Karl hesitated before he shrugged, pulling John along with him. They managed to keep their hands fixed together as they sat down, side by side. “Why are your mouths blue?”

“Ha ha, we got Slurpees. Well, Karl got one and I threw mine out because it was never meant for this world, or something. So we made due with Karl’s,” John explained, causing the others at the table to chuckle. Karl shifted uncomfortably at his side, palm sweaty as fingers clung onto his.

“Who wants pie?” Anne asked, looking around the table for the first taker. Were they just going to sit around eating dessert, exchanging pleasantries while avoiding what they really needed to talk about? John was about to say something when Karl beat him to it.

“Can we please cut the bullshit and just get this over with? At the very least, I think I deserve some kind of hint as to where I am being relocated in the near future.” Anne stopped mid slice, retracting and setting the serving knife down. She smiled warmly as she took a seat and John couldn’t help but feel his hopes lift. Maybe everything really was going to be okay somehow. Maybe celebratory pie really was in order.

“As you know, we’ve been trying to figure out what to do with about your living situation after the wonderful surprise of your relationship. I think, well, we have an option, and I’d like to hear what you think about it.” Anne smiled as her husband’s hand covered hers. “While I wanted to make the decision on my own, I couldn’t do that to Gilbert or to you. I know we haven’t had much time together, and we don’t know you very well yet, but we’d both like to. The few days we’ve had together aren’t enough, honey.”

John was pretty sure of what that had sounded like, and it was that they wanted to foster Karl. It would mean Karl wasn’t going to have to move again, that more distance wouldn’t be placed between them, and that he was only going to be thirty minutes away. It meant that these kind people, who genuinely seemed to care about what they were doing within the foster program, wanted to help. With hopeful smiles they waited for Karl to break out of his gaping stare and say something.

“Are you seriously doing what I think you’re doing? Is this some kind of joke? Is this just you sadistically dangling a rope down into the septic tank of my shit filled life, only to pull it away and leave me to topple back into the slurry of excrement I know too well? You’ve got me gripping on and tugging furiously for concrete words: let me drop or pull me the fuck up. Don’t just. Keep dangling. Just.” He quivered for a moment before pulling himself into John’s chest, trying to hide how vulnerable he was in that moment.

“I know we weren’t your first choice, but would you like to be a part of our family?” Karl’s tears soaked through the front of John’s shirt as he pulled closer. John rubbed circles over his boyfriend’s back, knowing Karl was shocked that people wanted him in their lives. Heck, he still had yet to fully come to terms with John wanting him, and they had been close friends for years. Anne and Gilbert were a home that took in kids when they really needed an in between, not for long term, so for Karl it must not have seemed like a possibility for them to change their lives for him. But they got that Karl needed someone to take care of him, that being put through foster care just one more time wouldn’t help him. He was sure that these two people would be good for Karl, that they wouldn’t passively standby but instead offer help when he needed it. They got that Karl could be life changing.

“Did Smith lie in my file?” Karl started, muffled to the point where John was pretty sure no one else could really hear him. “Did he do something incriminating like forgoing to disclose you on just how much of a fuck-up I am? In all seriousness, you had to have read at least one page the tomb that is my record; how did you not get the idea that I am not someone you want in your home longer than necessary? Are you being bribed to take me off of his hands? That makes the most sense actually; you were all just negotiating the insurmountable sum needed to house me this whole time. Understandable, since I have been nothing but an emotional wreck this entire time, and that is still marginally better than my usual self.”

“Karl,” Anne started, apparently having gotten at least some of the rant, “We’re not trying to do anything but have you in our lives. We want to give you the opportunities that you might not have otherwise had and give you the chance to overcome what you have gone through, but only if it is something you want. We want you to have the same thing every child should have: safety, comfort, and no fear when coming home. Everyone at this table would like to be a support, the people who you won’t be afraid to eventually open to, if you’ll let us. So, honey, do you think you want to live with me and Gilbert?”

Karl pulled away from John’s chest, with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. He looked to John first, searching for something in his eyes. It was as if he was gauging John’s reaction first, trying to read if it was really all happening and he hadn’t misheard. So John ruffled his hair and laughed, beaming down as he held him loosely in his arms. And Karl smiled.

“You’re going to regret this,” he turned to face his new foster parents, that uneven grin hesitant on his lips, “I’m sure I’ll do something that makes you want to get Smith to remove me. But, I want to stay here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday. Sup? News: Capt is wicked awesome forever, Sgt steals all of my time by being my internet twin except actually interesting, and [ Panic ](http://panicismyrain.tumblr.com/) is major fucking cutie. Delay of this chapter brought to you by Sgt, aka Sergeant Meow. (I love you, Sgt.) *Sob.* Second to last chapter. Oh my. Slurpees.


	17. In Which Karl Vantas and John Egbert Survived a Lot of Drama

As Karl watched the last half of Men in Black with John, stomach filled with an uncomfortable amount of pie and salted caramel ice cream, his mind wandered to the improbable series of events that had occurred over the past four days. Just the week before, he had thought himself in a hopeless situation, stuck in a system that seemed intent on fucking him over at every possible instance. He had graduated from what he tentatively called a hell hole with no direction for the rest of his life, stuck in a dead end job of serving the general public because he had really never imagined existing past high school. Not to say he had ever been intent to kill himself, but between all the moving, bullying, and some of the shittiest luck imaginable, he really hadn’t come up with a dream for the future.

On Wednesday morning, he would have never imagined that by Saturday night he’d be curled in the arms of his long-term internet crush, passively defending against an onslaught of soft kisses to his face and neck, in a house that seemed far too good to be true. If he told his past self just how better things would get for him—that he’d have someone who liked him enough to consider loving him one day, that there were actual foster parents who were the opposite of the usual distant adults that put up with housing him, and that a handful of real people wanted him to be a part of their lives—he would probably be on the receiving ends of a colourful string of swears before promptly being flipped off.

Karl was somewhat thankful to the drunken temperament of his previous parental type figure. Without the sudden shock of violent physical abuse, he would have never thrown his pride to the wind and reached out to his online friends for help. Without that literal push into a shitty fiberboard table over something as simple as _looking like a queer_ , he would have never found just how close his best friend was to him. John wouldn’t have offered him a place to stay without hesitation, and Karl wouldn’t have fallen even more hopelessly in love with him. Without that asshole’s “helping hand,” John would have never felt anything more than friendship back.

It was surreal to have everything he ever wanted, aside from having his mom and dad miraculously resurrected. Frankly, Karl wasn’t sure he even knew how to be happy. When he considered the last time he had ever been this content, this at peace with everything going on in his life, both of his parents had still been alive. He wasn’t sure what to do or how to really just enjoy it without worrying how he might ruin everything. Nearly every action he took relating to John was being second guessed, worried that every curse or brush off could mean he had lost his chance. He was still trying to grasp that it was all real, and knew that his usual aversion to being touched was being stifled by an overwhelming amount of new feelings. He knew that, in the times his body remembered how much it had been hurt, that he could push John away. So while John pulled him closer, kissing a trail along his jaw, Karl worried for the day he’d stop him.

“What’re you thinking about?” John asked, as he nuzzled in as close as Karl would let him. Despite currently having the same qualms with public displays of affection, when they were alone, John had no problems. Unlike Karl, he was used to having contact and—while he said he hadn’t had much experience when it came to sharing it in a more romantic sense—was much more familiar with it than his chosen partner. He had experienced the sensation of lips brushing against skin and how it felt to hold someone in his arms, while Karl hadn’t. John would stop if he asked, would smile sadly, but would understand how strange it all was for him. How many times would he be able to do that in the future before it became too much to deal with?

“How much I don’t want to lose you,” Karl answered, ducking his head down and away, ashamed by how much the truth would dampen the good mood. He didn’t want to hide from John with a lie; he wanted to be able to talk to him about everything without feeling like an asshole for opening his mouth. He wanted to share his uncertainties and worries, because keeping them all to himself meant not trusting his boyfriend to listen. It was an effort to talk about, straining him and stressing him until the few moments of silence between them were filled with every negative thought he could think of. He was not confident, too occupied with hating himself to love John as much as he deserved to be loved. John would realize that Karl’s behaviour would not change with a few dozen kisses and find that it was more trouble than it was worth. He would leave. He would. In a week, maybe two, he’d come to realize his mistake.

“You’re not going to lose me.” John carefully reached under Karl’s chin, pulling gently until they were staring face to face. Karl gave in so easily, accepting that he was going to have to look into those bright blue eyes. “Do you really have no faith in how much I just want to be with you? I cared about you so much even before meeting you offline. Seeing you and being with you like this just made me realize how much you actually mean to me and how much my life would just suck without you in it. I feel like a broken record, but I’m happy to repeat it: I like you, Karl. I’m sorry it took me so long before to realize it, but I really like you. You won’t lose me.”

“I, god, John, that’s not it.” John leaned in, kissing the tip of Karl’s nose as Karl tried to find an explanation. The gesture hadn’t made it any easier to figure out what he wanted to say, his brain leaving him to just splutter and blush for a moment on his own. John sat back as he waited patiently for the words to come back. “I just know how bad I can get, and how I’ve been acting recently with you isn’t it. When you find out the real me, I really wouldn’t blame you if you did leave. I know saying shit like this just pushes you away, but I, for some reason, can’t just smile and say nothing is bothering me. A lot of people have basically laid out the various ways that I am complete scum and deserve whatever they dish out, long enough for me to get that there is some truth there. I get that I’m basically a failure as a person, I’ve come to terms with that, but I don’t ever want to drag you down. I just don’t want your life to be shit via contact.”

“Karl, I hate that you’ve had to feel like this.” John had him wrapped in his arms again, leaning back until Karl was practically lying on top of him. Fingers stroked through his hair and ran up and down his back, the sensation leaving him tingling and warm. Maybe his body would just let him have this contact for as long as John would give it, all his instincts failing with the touch of those long fingers. “I hate that you feel you’re not allowed to be happy because other people don’t see how wonderful you are. You are so fucking wonderful, Karl, and you just have no idea.”

“John, watch your fucking language. One of us should retain some kind of class, and it sure as hell isn’t going to be me. I have no idea where you’re getting any of your facts to support your wild claim, though. You can’t just spout that kind of bullshit without having any basis for what you’re saying. The only one who is wonderful here is you, not only for putting up with me, but for the variety of things that just make you sort of perfect.” John lifted his head, lips pressing against Karl’s cheek, before resting back against the armrest.

“Oh man, you seriously don’t get it.” The stroking of his hair turned readily into tousling, leaving his bangs in his eyes and the general sense that the rest was sticking up wildly. The way John smiled at him made it not matter, made looking like an idiot mean even less than it usually did. “Have you not been listening to me when I, like, listed all the things I liked about you? Everyday I’m learning more about you, and I just want you to get how amazed I am by it all. Like, how you can sing, legitimately sing, and not just what I do for fun, even though it seems like you just do it absentmindedly or when you don’t think other people are really listening. And then you can dance, which, yeah, I count seeing you wiggle your hips that one time as dancing because I can’t even manage that much. How you’ve memorized Shakespeare and collect love stories and can bake a pie. I just am really looking forward to what I’ll find out tomorrow and the day after that, and the day after that, and—”

“I get it,” Karl said, cutting John off before he could get another _‘day after that’_ in. He shifted his weight, trying to find a better way of lying on his stomach that didn’t involve his fractured arm being pinned. After about a minute of squirming around and settling his arm in a handful of different angles, he sat up. John looked up at him, a brow raised curiously and his mouth stretching into a broad smile. “I think we need to reverse positions for this way of cuddling to not be uncomfortable as all hell. I’d have to be lying fully on my back for my ribs not to protest about being at an angle.”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to crush you or make you feel like, I don’t know, like I was trapping you, if that makes sense,” John said, slowly lifting to sit upright. He helped Karl ease onto his back, cradling him against his chest with one hand while propping them up with the other. John kept most of his weight on his elbows so he didn’t put any pressure on Karl’s injuries, his legs resting in between Karl’s. With a slow lean, a look checked for any signs of discomfort in Karl’s face, and a quick nod to go ahead, John was kissing the side of Karl’s neck and— _wow_ , the more he thought about it the more this seemed like an intimate situation. Weren’t they supposed to be watching a movie? “Is this better?”

“It’s different.” Karl spoke hesitantly, unsure of what to make of their hips touching and the mouth moving languidly against his skin. John pulled back to rest his head on his shoulder, breath tickling against sensitive skin. “It’s not bad, but it feels kind of strange, probably because I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be doing. You’re the expert, where should I put my hand?” Karl motioned with his good arm before letting it dangle off the couch.

“You could just rest it on my back, I guess?” John chuckled, smiling so honestly that Karl couldn’t help obliging him. He laid his hand stiffly over John’s shoulder blades before he thought to relax, slipping it down until it fell to a more natural resting place at the curve of his back. “Since we are now comfortable, back to the point. I want you in my life forever, Karl. I was serious when I said I wanted to run away with you. Hell, I’m still considering it as an option for when September rolls around, even though it’s not a great idea for reasons you’ve already said. I really want this, and I just want you to realize that I’m going to stand by you no matter what you think could happen, and no matter who you think you’re going to be in front of me. Relationships aren’t easy, but we can make this work. We’re going to make it work, so stop acting like we’re not.”

“You actually think we’re going to last?” The words were muffled by a sudden mass of hair as John tried to rest his head on Karl’s chest. He scoffed over the fact that John had thought that that would have actually worked before reaching up to shove lightly at his temple. “I don’t know what you’re doing or trying to make happen, but stop it. It is not working.”

“Your cast is preventing me from cuddling the heck out of you, that’s what’s happening,” John huffed, returning to Karl’s shoulder to place a light kiss where the collar of his shirt met skin. It almost tickled as John’s lips fluttered up the expanse of his neck, pressing more firmly at the corner of his mouth. He pulled away to look into Karl’s eyes, his smile contagious. “Yeah, I honestly think you should try to get used to my face, because you’re going to be seeing it all up close and personal for the rest of your life in high definition glory.” Karl knocked their foreheads together, sighing over how John could make something sound so stupid and so romantic at the same time. “Can I kiss you?”

“You’re ridiculous.” Karl tilted his head up, their lips meeting in a tender moment before John pushed in and Karl pulled down and both surrendered to the feeling of being happy. Happiness wasn’t something he was used to, just as he wasn’t used to smiling, laughing, and kissing. He’d be getting plenty of practice, though, with the boy he had liked since the day after he had met him, who he had loved for almost as long.

To think, all it had taken to express how he felt was meeting John Egbert face-to-face and exhibiting behaviour that made him nothing short of a drama queen.

///

Despite how insane the last few days had been for new discoveries, emotional epiphanies, and blockbuster breakdowns, John and Karl had come out of it together. John hadn’t really known what to expect when he had first seen the hunched figure of his best friend approaching his car last Wednesday night. He hadn’t caught on to how attractive Karl was in the dark, focusing instead on the injuries that maked features that John now could very much appreciate. Worry for a friend pushed past anything else and, when that wasn’t enough to shrug off the feelings, it was his determined interest in women getting in the way of him realizing what he wanted. What they both really wanted, it turned out.

The more Karl had shared, yelled, cursed and smiled, the more John wanted to see of him. He wanted to be with his best friend every single day, to hold his hand and wrap him up in his arms and give him all the support he could offer. Then, with some meddling and offhanded remarks, John had thought over a single question: _would you theoretically kiss him_? It hadn’t taken long for him to understand that the answer to that question was “yes.” “Yes” a whole lot.

His world hadn’t really been turned upside-down, but it was certainly different from a week ago; he hadn’t thought he would have figured out, lost his shit over, or told his dad about his sexuality in the span of a couple days. He hadn’t thought he’d be in a relationship, already thinking of the long term, with his best friend of four years. It wasn’t going to be easy, he knew that. There was a lot to Karl which he was still getting used to and even more which he still didn’t know. That small quirk of his lips, the tone of his voice and those ridiculously long eyelashes were still very much new to him. There were things Karl thought would be deal breakers which John really hadn’t seen yet, pieces of himself that he was sure would make John leave. John was just starting to work out what those pieces were.

It was in the defensive verbal back lashings Karl gave himself, in the readiness to turn to aggression when he felt like he was being targeted, and just in the overall way he acted around other people. Even though Karl was pretty normal around him—except for the self-loathing that John hadn’t realized was really real in all the time he had known Karl—John could see the change when he was with other people. There were problems, deeply ingrained in him from his life up to this point. It was going to take a lot to overcome ,and even then that might never happen. Within all of those troubles, Karl seemed the most concerned over somehow losing John or upsetting John than dealing with anything else in his life. That wasn’t good, either. John didn’t want to be Karl’s only dream. He wanted to help him realize his potential and just be happy about himself. Another thing that was going to take time.

But despite the reminiscing and the mental list of things John wanted to help Karl with, his biggest concern in the moment was trying to realistically come up with a way where he could just continue kissing his boyfriend forever. Things would get awkward when nature called and they eventually would get dehydrated, but hey, John was sure they could give it a shot. Convincing Karl that that was a thing they could accomplish would be the biggest challenge of all, but John figured he could persuade him to at least try. He had a simple plan of attack: after a few eyebrow wiggles and romcoms, the kissing forever would totally be on. As for the moment, he would have to settle for just kissing for a while.

John dipped down, pressing into those warm, full lips that tightened instinctively before they relaxed against his. Hesitation gave way to a slow reciprocation, then after an almost painfully long pause where it felt like nothing would come from this attempt, into an eager response. It was worth the wait when Karl tilted up, pulled John in by the back of the head with fingers tangled through his hair, and gave in to the sensation. When Karl let go of over thinking and just did whatever he thought might feel good, kissing him was really just the best thing ever.

Having established a method that fit the previous night, not much time was wasted trying to find an angle that worked. Karl’s hand fell between John’s shoulders, twisting and bunching the fabric of his shirt, trying to bring John down with no regard to his own injuries. As John tried to avoid crushing Karl with the overwhelming urge to get as close as possible, then closer, he wondered how long it would take before Karl kissed him back before first assuming he’d mess things up. Would John ever even be able to spontaneously shower affection upon his boyfriend without having to ask to do so in advance? Would Karl try to get better, or would he be too afraid to admit the details of his past to someone else? Would he think therapy was just someone trying to judge him and become too defensive to open up?

“To take a page from the book of John, you are practically constructing lengthy paragraphs on how extraordinarily lost in thought you are. You have been sucking on my bottom lip for a solid thirty seconds. I hate to break it to you, but that is not the greatest move you have ever tried. Stop attempting to think, you may break something.” The usual excess of words were delivered between short puffs of breath, Karl’s eyes fixed on John’s lips in a way that seemed to ask to continue. John would have eagerly obliged if he hadn’t become distantly aware that, despite the short amount of time they had actually made-out for, a break was necessary. What he had been thinking about was actually something they needed to discuss, as well.

“I was just thinking that maybe, when you’re ready, it might be a good idea to talk to a psychiatrist about everything.” Karl’s eyes flicked up to meet his, the startled worry evident as they held each other’s gaze. When he realized John wasn’t going to back down and shrug it off, Karl turned his head to the side to focus on the TV.

“Did you notice that the movie ended about ten minutes ago? Are we going to watch the sequel or just let the title screen run on a loop for the rest of the night?” John sighed, rolling off of Karl and onto his side to block his view. This wasn’t something Karl wanted to consider because it meant talking about himself, or ruining the mood, or whatever other negatives he could come up with that would result in the conversation taking place. But Karl had also expressed how he didn’t want to hide from John, and right now he sort of seemed like he was hiding. Making Karl talk wasn’t something he wanted to do, so if he really insisted on changing the subject, John would.

“Karl, I don’t think it’s something that should be brushed off because you don’t like thinking about it. I don’t want you to give up on making yourself feel better because you don’t think you’re worth it. I know you don’t really believe me right now, but one day you’re going to see something of what I see when I look at you. You are worth it, and you’re allowed to have a life where you’re happy and not carrying around all of this alone. You’ve been hurt so much, and I just hate to think you’re going to keep hurting. I want to help. Everyone in this house wants to help, which includes my dad and Mr. Smith. We obviously can’t force you, so that’s my opinion. I think going to therapy might really be a good idea.” Karl was silent, attention fixed on the front of John’s shirt. John reached out, brushing those white bangs out of his eyes. “Would this be easier if we were having this conversation in my car?”

“I think that your car has seen enough confessions to compose a rather thorough essay on teenagers and their feelings, so let’s leave it out of this one. Don’t want to hand it material so it doesn’t actually have to work for it,” Karl said, a small smile easing his face. Slowly, he turned over to face John, shifting back so there was more room. “You’re right. I don’t want to talk about it. Though that doesn’t mean you’re not right. It’s not something I want to do, but I think I’m going to have to do it. I can’t just fucking stay like this if I want to make you happy.”

“Karl, no, this isn’t about me,” John began, only to have his protests halted as Karl pulled forward, lips fluttering against his with such sincere emotion that it left John speechless. It continued to surprise him how such a light kiss could convey such a deep meaning. There was love in that gentle caress, a feeling that caused him a moment’s pause when Karl pulled away. Having rendered John sufficiently speechless, Karl spoke rushed words he actually seemed to believe.

“But it is, in a way. For four years, you’ve been the only real highlight of my life, with a few of our friends making it only marginally more bearable. Seeing your name light up online and having you greet me, without me prompting you to, made things just suck a bit less.”

It upset John to think that Karl had so few good moments that their online chats were what he had to look forward to each day. It was true that John also found himself more eager to interact in a virtual setting than offline, and pestering his chums was great, but they weren’t the sole reason for his happiness. He was self diagnosed as a pretty happy guy and couldn’t complain about his life: school was good, his co-workers were friendly, and he had a father who, though sometimes irritatingly supportive, was ever a source of positive energy. His dad was his role model, someone who wanted to do right by people but who wasn’t afraid to stand up for what he believed in. If a day was not going so great, his dad wanted to pick him back up, even if he did it with a bunch of cakes too often.

Karl had gone a very long time without someone like that supporting him in his real life, far too long without being bullied at school, and he had never reminisced over his jobs with anything but disdain. So, while it made John want to hold him until the bad went away, he probably wasn’t exaggerating. Maybe John and their friends were really all that Karl had.

“When I do make a point to get better, and I will, it will mostly be because I want to be a better person for you. If I manage to somehow shrug off my god given title of fucking useless waste of space and I do get better, it will be because I want to be the kind of person you’ll be proud to be with. I want to be someone you won’t be ashamed to call your boyfriend, and that’s not going to happen with me staying like this.” Karl groaned, thumping his head hard on the back of the couch. They narrowly avoided a head-on collision when Karl let himself bounce back. “Sorry, I know you hate it when I say things like that about myself. You’d think I’d try to make an effort in actually listening to you. That’s something else I’ll have to work on. And not just by making sure not to say shit like that in front of you, but actually make some effort to stopping myself from believing that my existence is really as—okay, stop talking about it, retard. Fuck, just, goddamn it.”

“Hey, we’ll get there.” John kissed him on the forehead, the nose, the cheek, and everywhere else he could reach until Karl let out a shaky breath. “Take your time with it, there’s zero rush.” Karl nodded, eyes scrunched closed while he bit down so hard on his lower lip that John was sure he would open the split again. He ran a hand up his back and, woah, Karl’s whole body had really tensed up. John tried to ease some of the tautness away in Karl’s shoulders, his free hand gently kneading at the tight muscles in hopes that they would relax Karl a bit. His efforts weren’t doing much to help, apparently. “Try to breathe, Karl. I’m not upset. It’s going to be okay. I’m here. Just breathe, it’ll be okay.”

It took a worrying five minutes for Karl to come back to him. When he did he open his eyes, he almost glared before he seemed to catch himself. Eyes softened the longer they watched each other, John continuing his mock massage until Karl leaned back into his fingers and sighed out an apology. Knowing that he was still shaken from what had happened, John asked for permission to give his boyfriend a reassuring peck on the lips.

“I am not ashamed of you at all, Karl. I’ve never been ashamed to be your friend, and I’m not going to start now that I’m also your boyfriend. I am so, so proud of what you’ve done in the past few days. You’ve made such a big step towards getting your life on track, and you’ve shared so much after keeping it inside for so long. I know you can do this, I know you can live for yourself and not just for me. You’re a lot stronger than you think you are.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, John Egbert, but I sure as hell cheated someone out of bearing what could only have been described as the most charming, bucktoothed children the world would have ever known. Too damn bad for her though.”

“All that it took to catch me hook, line, and sinker was always just you. You never pretended to be anyone but who you are, at least to me. I am crazy about you, dude. As lucky as you feel to have me, I bet I feel just as lucky to have you.”

Wrapping his boyfriend up in his arms, with Karl hiding his blushing face and a small grin against his chest, there wasn’t anything John could think of that he’d rather be doing. Everything was worth it to see Karl light up with just such sudden happiness that it left him flushed and laughing. Everything would continue to be worth it for moments like these and for the goal of creating more of them together.

“I was looking forward to going to school in the fall, but now I’m pretty much dreading it. Not spending everyday with you? That is going to blow.”

“You know, that is going to make the time we do have all the better, or cliche crap people say to pretend they’re not dreading the separation. Yeah, it’s probably going to blow, especially with you busy with homework. I’m going to have to get a job just so I’m not just waiting for you to get online between classes, day in and day out. As much as school comes first and you should not prioritize me, I expect some form of communication daily, because I am fucking in need of you. But if it’s any consolation, I promise I’ll figure out what I want to do and enroll so I can be there for the winter semester.” Karl shifted, giving up on being embarrassed in favour of looking up at John, that shy smile stretching. With all the swings of emotions that they seemed to constantly face, things had settled up into happiness. It was the small, close times with each other that were moments John truly treasured. “You know, if I had kept my mouth shut, we might be living together right now.”

“It’s okay. One day we will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go out to Sgt Meow, who decided to beta this chapter because he is the English teacher. So he beta'd while I sobbed in a corner. ILU BBY.
> 
> Well kids, it's been a fun ride! Drama Queen 1 is officially over. Wow, that took forever and a half. They didn't even bone. For fuck sakes story. Welp. Can't win 'em all. I'm not sure when Drama Queen 2 will start, but I have several other stories I want to get done. How many of those I'll be writing between the parts, I don't know, but there's one or two epically long ones. If you're a fan of Johnkat, you can expect more of that pairing from me soon. I will go down with this ship.


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